Bright Lights, Black City
by emberfire411
Summary: Magic can do some incredible things, but even it has limits. They lost their chance a long time ago. But maybe they deserve another one…
1. Prelude

_Prelude_

Arcadia surveyed the hall, watching for signs of the other members of the Council. _Surely they will come,_ she reasoned. _They do not know of this meeting's purpose. There is no reason for them to turn their backs._

Shivers raced down her spine. _But will they when I tell them?_

"I'm here." Andromeda's soft-spoken voice filled the hall, and Arcadia couldn't help breathe a small sigh of relief as the old mermaid heaved herself up onto her rock. "What is your purpose for calling us tonight, Arcadia?"

"Yes, please enlighten us," Cedric said, his deep, booming bass echoing in the shadowy cavern. His hooves made clicking noises on the floor as he padded up to the side of the pool.

"I do not appreciate this interruption," Hathor's raspy screech exclaimed, as he swooped dramatically down to convene with the others. "I do hope this is not an immense waste of my time."

"Silly old bat, you've got nothing _but_ time," Andromeda laughed. Cedric chuckled, and for a moment Arcadia's muscles relaxed.

It didn't last, though, as Cedric soon turned his gaze back to the fairy of the Golden Kingdom. "We are all here, Arcadia. Now tell us. Why have you called us here tonight?"

Arcadia took a deep breath. "Friends, elders, it has come to my attention that there is a soul petitioning for a reincarnation." Andromeda inhaled sharply. "As you know, such a gift has not been bestowed in over two hundred years. I do not take this decision lightly, and neither should you."

"Why have _we_ been called to make this decision? Aren't there others that deal with this sort of thing?" Cedric asked. Hathor's eyes flickered like he agreed.

"This soul is a very… special case. I was asked personally to take this case on, and thought it right to include all of you in this monumental decision, for the choice we make tonight may shape the future of the world as we know it."

"Who is this person?" Hathor asked. "Anyone we might know?"

"You have heard of him, seen the destruction he caused in his first life. We were asked to intervene, when things became truly too difficult for the rest of the magical dimension to handle on their own. Search your memories; I know that it is there."

Andromeda's eyes lit up, then narrowed in disbelief. "Surely you don't mean…" When Arcadia nodded, the mermaid's stare grew even colder. "Arcadia, how could you even _think_ of giving him a second chance? You said it yourself, this is not a gift to be taken lightly. Would you truly bear the responsibility of causing something like that to happen again?"

"Why are we even still talking about this?" Cedric declared, slamming his hand against a piece of the railing. Arcadia flinched, trying hard not to lose her composure. "I will never vote to give him another life with which to wreak that kind of destruction. If that is all, Arcadia, I am leaving." He turned around as if to start down the hallway at a gallop, his wings outstretched and poised to take off at a second's notice.

"Stay, Cedric," Hathor commanded, his voice intimidating despite its scratchiness. "Arcadia was not finished."

"Thank you, Hathor." She tipped her head slightly in his direction, but he only rewarded her with a thin smile.

Cedric's nostrils flared, but he folded up his wings. "Continue," he said tightly, his contempt barely veiled.

"He has done great wrongs in his first life, that is true. But the hand he was dealt was not a particularly good one. And…" She hesitated, unsure if this next tidbit would sway or dissuade the others to her side. "There is a girl."

"Cold-blooded murderer wants to go back and be with his precious sweetheart?" Cedric sneered. "Never mind the fact that his own feelings were never acknowledged nor returned. Arcadia, why you insist upon wasting our time with this _garbage_, I will never understand."

"Silence!" the council leader snapped. "Kindly refrain from interrupting me, Cedric, or I will snip off your wings and feed them to the dragons." His face paled considerably, and Arcadia let out a soft sigh. She and Cedric rarely, if ever, saw eye to eye, and he was no stranger to voicing his opinions – loudly. She hated using her power as leader in times like this, but sometimes it was necessary.

"His _insolence_ aside, Cedric does have a point." Andromeda stretched herself out on the rock. "Will you really turn a blind eye to everything he's done, for some silly little romance? How do you know this is real, and not just a lie told to persuade us to let him loose again?"

"I have been to see the girl in question," she started. "She is one of us, yet she turns away from her past and lives as a mortal on Earth. Something is troubling her; I could sense that much even without slipping into her mind. She has suffered much hardship, and now has become quite isolated from the rest of the magical dimension. And she is a good and pure soul, the very definition of selflessness. I believe this is worth considering; if not for him, then for her. She is much deserving of a reward, after everything that she has done."

"Was she one of the group that came to us?" Hathor asked.

"She could not at the time. Her powers were incomplete; still are incomplete, because of the tragedy of her past." Seeing that she had their full attention, Arcadia knew it was time to end this soon, and come to a decision. "They are connected by something deeper than any bond created in the mortal world. I believe that she is capable of bringing him out of the darkness that sheltered him in his first life. And in return, I believe he may be a great help in her struggles to come."

"Are you on about that again?" Cedric's voice was still cold, but had the bare minimum of respect that would keep an argument at bay. "We've seen what will happen; the girl is fine on her own. She doesn't need someone there to hold her hand."

"But keep in mind, we are not the only creatures to exist outside of time. If we've seen it, have they as well?"

It was silent in the hall for a moment. "Would we leave him his powers?" Andromeda arched one eyebrow, and Arcadia could see that she had the mermaid on her side, despite her question. "Surely that would be a recipe for disaster."

"I agree. Binding his powers is the most logical thing to do. They may be returned with time, if he can prove himself."

Hathor sighed. "This reminds me why you are our fearless leader, Arcadia. Because you are willing to argue for these lost causes. Very well then; you've got me convinced."

Arcadia smiled. "Cedric?" She turned towards the centaur.

"Does it matter what I think? You've got your majority vote."

"I would prefer this to be unanimous."

The centaur sighed. "You make a compelling argument. But I must insist on one condition. Someone must check in on him regularly, to make sure this isn't a mistake or trick of some sort."

"If that is what you wish, it can be done." She bit back the wide grin that threatened to spread across her face. "So it is decided. We will grant him a second chance."

"_One_ more chance," Cedric was quick to add. "And if there is even the slightest hint of a backslide, I will personally revoke his life and cast the spirit down into the deepest pits of darkness."

Andromeda winced. "Must you be so dramatic, Cedric?"

"The council is dismissed," Arcadia declared, clapping her hands three times. The golden railing started to sink back into the pool.

"Hmph," Cedric huffed, spreading his wings and taking off. Hathor was quick to follow, and Andromeda dropped back down into the pool, leaving Arcadia alone with her thoughts in the great hall.

She inhaled sharply. _You have no idea the lengths I've gone to for you now. You had better not make me regret doing this._

* * *

Julius Osborne was used to odd requests.

Being in the tattoo business for eight years now, it never ceased to amaze him how stupid people could be sometimes. Putting faces of children on an arm; giving a couple a matching heart, only to have one of them come in a few months later with a request to cover the name with a differ ent one; or giving a too-young child some half-assed symbol like a heart while their parents, covered head-to-toe in ink, looked on and gave an encouraging thumbs-up. His boss called it good business.

Julius called it the fall of society.

But still, despite all of the requests he'd had, all of the Michael Jackson quotes he'd written on the inside of people's wrists, there was something odd about the girl who sat in his chair now.

It wasn't her appearance, per se; she looked like a lot of normal girls who came in on their eighteenth birthdays, intent on defying their parents' many scoldings of how one ink would make you look like a hooligan. Her red hair was up in a messy bun, and she was dressed in a blue and yellow crop top and jeans. Her phone rested in her lap, and she tapped a finger against it, waiting for him to speak.

But it was her demeanor that struck him as odd. She wasn't overly giddy, nor was she scared stiff as she stared at the tools resting on his desk. She didn't even have any friends with her – unless you counted the small rabbit that peeked out of her purse every now and then. There were two pink suitcases propped against the door, obviously full. This girl was either going back home or running away from something. He suspected a little of both.

"Can you do it?" Her voice surprised him; it was much softer than he'd imagined.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he glanced at the piece of paper in his hand again. (Actually, it was a napkin, from some place called the Magix Coffee House. He wondered if it was any good. "I can," Julius said slowly, and in fact he could. There had been many a time people had come to him with personal drawings or designs they wanted him to tattoo – and he'd seen far worse ones than what this girl had come up with. He turned back to her. "You sure you're eighteen?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Did you see my ID?"

He had – five times, actually. And he'd read her 1992 birthdate over and over again to make sure it was correct. But something about it seemed odd; there was a tickle in the back of his head every time he looked at it, as though his brain was trying to tell him it wasn't right.

"Hurry it up, Julius!" his boss yelled from down the hall. "Busy, busy day!"

He sighed. "Alright, better get started then. Now, this your first time getting a tattoo?" She nodded. "And you know the back of your neck is one of the most painful places to get inked, right?"

"I don't want it that big," she insisted.

"I understand that. But big or small, it's gonna sting, and it's going to take time to heal. Okay?"

"Got it."

He didn't know what he expected – some explanation, maybe. Most people were overly eager to share whatever life-changing experience had inspired them to get a tattoo. But this girl was eerily silent. Another thing that set him off about her.

Julius finally gave up. "Hold onto this," he said, tossing her a stress ball he kept for first-timers. "And lean your head forward." She obliged, and he looked at the drawing again. "This isn't bad, kid," he said, picking up a tattoo gun. "Did you come up with this yourself?"

She chuckled, but something about it sounded off. "Oh, if only. If only…"

* * *

_**We're baaaack...**_

**Yes, I said _we_! After all of the awesome feedback from Leap of Faith, Authoress-In-Training and I are back for another fantastic collaboration! I hope you guys are as excited as we are!**

**Now, I'm sure this prelude has given you a basic idea of the insanity to come, and we promise updates are coming soon! I know school starting back up is a drag, but we have a plan, and it shall be so epic!**

**However, it isn't just our opinions that matter here; it's yours! And there's only one way to voice that opinion, and it's right below this! Let us know in your review what you think is going to happen, what you're excited for, and all of that awesome stuff. And if you've got questions, drop either me or Authoress a PM (remember; we're both writing this, so don't be afraid to go talk to her too. She doesn't bite - I promise ;-) ).**

**Well guys, that's all for now. As said earlier, updates will be soon, so we'll see you then!**

**ember & Authoress**


	2. Chapter 1

"I'd like to propose a toast!"

Color. Music. Energy. Lights swirled around me, creating patterns that bounced off the walls and gave you an acid trip without the drugs. On the dance floor, people were chest-to-chest, drinks in hand, discussing small nothings, and looking for a good time. I surveyed the area around me, feeling like I was part of an entire movement. Firefly – the dance club I was in – looked like something right out of downtown Magix.

But it wasn't Magix.

"Hey! I said listen up!"

I laughed and turned my head. Anna Ellis, my roommate and best friend on Earth, was sitting on the barstool in a ruffled purple minidress, the blue highlights in her hair shining in the strobe lights. She was on her second beer and slightly tipsy, but still in her right mind. I had a feeling I would be the one driving us back to the house, though, which was a bit of a bummer since it would take about an hour to get back to Santa Ana from the club.

The voices in our group died down to listen to her, as well as a few other guys who were floating around. A few people smirked; Anna had a habit of attracting men's unwanted affections, and it was easy to see why. She was extremely fun and easy-going, and her Korean heritage had been kind to her. An Asian beauty in Southern California who spoke three languages; sometimes it felt like they lined up wherever we went. If in a good mood, she would laugh it off and say it got her more sales at the clothing store where she worked.

She looked pleased when the noise level died down to a dull roar. "Thank you. Now, you all know we aren't here for just any old reason."

"Yeah. Bloom!" someone yelled.

There was a round of whoops and cheers as a faint blush crept into my cheeks.

"Yes, our little baby girl is the big two-one!" Anna yelled.

More cheers. My blush turned bright red.

"Ah, it seems like it was just yesterday we were in the car driving to our first day of elementary school."

I laughed. "If you start in with the incriminating stories, I'm going to pour my drink on you."

Everyone laughed. "You're so critical. But really now." The crowd fell silent as Anna put on her 'serious' face. "When Bloom left for boarding school freshman year, I honestly thought it would just be a childhood friendship that I would remember down the road. When she came back, it turns out we got closer than ever. I'm honored to have her back, and I'm even happier we're best friends again!"

Everyone cheered as I gave her a tight hug. If she hadn't been drinking, I was fairly sure Anna would have been crying.

"To Bloom!" Anna said, raising her glass. "May her twenty-first birthday be the most magical of all!"

* * *

"Your little birthday speech was cool," I said to Anna once most of the crowd had gone back to the dance floor.

She smirked and took a sip of her beer. "That's what I do, darling. I make meaningful speeches and then drink the weight of the bullshit I said."

I shook my head and sat down next to her, making sure my skirt didn't ride up. I'd found the dress in an old thrift store by our house: long-sleeved and dark blue, with black beading on the shoulders and a skirt that ended a few inches above my knees. Anna had bought it for me, insisting it was identical to a dress from a Wonder Girls music video. "I still appreciate it."

"Even the side comment?" she asked, the smirk widening.

I hit her shoulder playfully. "Thank goodness you'd only had two beers. Otherwise you might've said 'may this fairy and princess from another dimension have the best birthday ever'."

Anna laughed. "Oh please, you had a hard enough time making _me_ believe that, and I'm a total Disney nostalgic. Even if I did say it, they'd all assume I was drunk."

"Still…"

"Bloom, relax. I know it was a big decision for you to tell me in the first place, and I plan to honor the promise I made."

"_You _didn't even believe I was a fairy at first."

"I didn't. And then you teleported me to the middle of Tokyo and I did believe you."

"Right after you fainted."

"I was in _shock_! You try finding out your best friend is a magical creature; it doesn't always go over well. Be thankful I didn't turn you over to the FBI."

"Please, I would've wiped your memory before it came to that."

"Gee, thanks." Anna chuckled for a moment before raising an eyebrow. "Wait, you can do that?"

Before I could respond, the conversation was interrupted by a deep voice. "Birthday girl? Why aren't you on the dance floor?"

Anna and I both laughed as a black-haired boy dressed in a silver T-shirt and dark blue jeans approached. "She's avoiding dancing with _you_, Ellis."

Josh Ellis – Anna's twin brother, who preferred his last name to his first – grinned and slung his arm around my shoulders, giving me a tight squeeze. As per usual, he ignored Anna's wisecracks. "Happy birthday, Bloom."

"Thanks, Ellis. So where's my gift?" I smirked.

"I forgot it at home." We both glared at him, and he finally sighed. "Okay, okay, I haven't gotten it yet. But the next time you're down at The Wharf, I'll buy your dinner along with everyone in your party." The Wharf was a fancy restaurant down on the Balboa peninsula. Ellis was working there until he could secure a job at one of the larger tech companies in LA.

I pretended to think the offer over. "Well… I suppose if that's all you can give… I'll take it."

He laughed and gave a mock bow. "Thank you _so_ much for accepting my humble offer, miss. How will I ever make it up to you?"

Anna and I both laughed. We were all too used to Ellis's attitude, since the three of us spent so much time together; whether it was playing cards at Anna's and my house on a weeknight or taking trips to Knotts Berry on the weekends.

"Well _I'm_ dancing. Anyone in?"

"When I finish my drink," Anna said. She held it out to Ellis, who took a sip and promptly disappeared into the crowd of people dancing.

I watched him go, the gears in my head turning. "I want to tell him," I said, leaning back against the bar.

"Bad call." Anna took a sip of beer. "He'll think you're crazy."

"_You_ thought I was crazy. Before I whisked you off to Tokyo, you were threatening to call Vanessa because you thought I had heat stroke."

"That's not the point. Ellis is a lot more… serious. He won't believe it, and he'll tell people. And then more and more will find out, and the government will be knocking on your door and dragging you off to Area 51, and I'll never see you again and have to pay rent all by my lonesome."

"But what if he _does_ find out and we haven't told him? He'll hate me forever."

Anna groaned. "_Bloom_."

"_Anna_."

She looked ready to start arguing with me, but stopped just as soon as she opened her mouth, her eyes staring at somewhere behind me. I saw them widen in a very familiar manner that told me there was either a raging fire behind me, or a very nice piece of eye candy.

"How cute?" I asked, not wanting to turn around.

She glared at me. "Just because I trail off from the conversation for a minute doesn't mean I'm looking at a cute guy."

"Scale from one to ten?"

"…Thirteen. But it doesn't matter. He's got his eyes on _you_, my dear."

I glanced around in my chair, looking through the crowds of dancing people and the bright lights. I didn't know what to expect; maybe Anna's usual preference of tall, blond, and ripped. But I knew it certainly wasn't what I saw.

My lips formed a small O shape as Riven, his storm-colored eyes meeting mine, smiled and lifted his bottle in a mockery of a toast. Gritting my teeth, I turned back to Anna.

"It doesn't matter either way, because he's taken. Or at least, I hope he still is, but with those two you really never know…"

Her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "You _know_ him?"

"And most of the time I wish I didn't…" I sighed, nervously running my fingers through my hair a couple times. "He dated a friend of mine at school, although they were always off and on. He's not exactly the easiest person to get along with." In my head, I laughed at how much of an understatement that was.

A small smirk crossed her face. "Is this the guy you dumped a flower pot on once?"

"He started it." I rolled my eyes, finally biting the bullet and standing up. "If he's here, it can't be just because he wanted a night out. I'll be back soon. Hopefully."

"Remember, it's your twenty-first – nobody has to know what you do with him!"

"I'd rather make out with Ellis!" I shot back, heading into the crowd towards him.

Riven met me halfway, the beer bottle still in his hands. "I would like to point out that the Day of the Rose was mostly your fault," he said, having to basically yell over the noise of the club. He was dressed uncharacteristically nicely in a black button-up shirt and a pair of red jeans. I also noticed a small bag dangling on his arm, practically erupting with bright yellow tissue paper that seemed to scream 'Stella'. I wondered if she had made him bring something for me.

"Save it for someone who cares, Riv," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to pretend I couldn't feel Anna's eyes on me, watching my every move.

He stared at me for a moment, as though surprised to find I could still put up a fight against him. Then, without warning, he pulled his second un-Riven-like move of the evening and pulled me against him in a tight hug.

"Geez I missed you," he muttered against my hair (even in my heels, I was still a couple inches shorter than him). "Stella takes arguments way too seriously."

I couldn't help but laugh. "You miss our fights, or you miss not having to deal with Stella alone?"

"Shut up. You know what I mean."

I sighed quietly. "Yeah… I do."

We finally pulled away from each other and went to sit at the other end of the bar, away from most of the people. The bartender came over and asked us if we wanted anything, and Riven ordered another beer.

"You fit in here," I commented, as the bartender uncapped the bottle and set it down in front of him. "Then again, you always did strike me as the type. Though I can't say the same for Musa."

"What Musa does or doesn't do with her time has nothing to do with me anymore," he said, taking a long pull from his new beer.

I raised an eyebrow. _That_ was surprising. "Since when?"

"Two weeks after graduation," he replied, taking another, smaller sip. He sounded like he was on autopilot – I vaguely wondered how many people he'd had to tell over the years (whenever Musa and Riven _were_ together, they were big on the PDA).

"Did anything happen?"

"Not outside the usual stuff; I'm hard to deal with, she doesn't talk about her feelings, my temper's too short…"

I nodded. "I'm sorry. You two were good for each other."

"Maybe you should have been around to tell her that, then." Riven didn't even pause to consider the words.

If I had any slight happy feelings regarding him being here, they evaporated at that comment. "How long have you been waiting to use that one?" I asked bitterly, grabbing his beer and taking a drink of it. I then tried my best to hide my grimace – I'd never had it before, and it tasted horrible (note to self: stick with mixed drinks and wine).

That usual smirk was evident on his face. "A while, I admit. Also on the subject of making you feel guilty, here." He shoved the bag towards me. "That's from the girls. They wanted to send something when they heard I was dropping in."

"I was wondering; you don't seem like a yellow wrapping paper kind of guy." Absently, I rifled through the paper until I touched something cool, pulling out a silver charm bracelet with a variety of shapes dangling from it. They didn't all make sense together, but at the same time they did, and I could almost pick out who chose what – geometric neon beads (Tecna), flower charms (Flora), a yellow sun (Stella)…

"There's a card in there with a website," Riven added. "Tecna worked her brainy magic on it; if you hold it up to a webcam, it's supposed to play music and videos or something. All I know is that she'll kill me if I don't tell you about it."

I nodded, a tight feeling settling in my chest. "Why are you here, Riven?"

His voice held a cool sarcasm. "What, I can't celebrate the birthday of one of my closest friends? All that fame gone to your head, dear?"

A bitter laugh escaped my throat before I could stop it. "Does this–" I waved a hand, emphasizing the loud club, "–look like fame to you? I'm not a princess anymore, Riv. I'm just a regular person with friends and rent to pay and a job to go to. I would think you of all people would understand that."

He turned to face me, eyes alight with anger. "You _weren't_ just a regular person. You were the savior of the magical dimension, everyone's hero. And then you just up and left us all. Like none of it ever happened. Do you have any idea how many conspiracy theories there are about you?"

"Let them think whatever they want. It's in the past."

"But why did you decide to put it there?"

"_Why_ do you care?"

Riven sighed irritably. "You know why, idiot."

"Still have the hots for me? I thought that was long over."

Despite everything, a small smile appeared on his face. "No one's seen Sky since you left. Unless you count Stella, and in which case Diaspro's glued to him like a tumor."

Based on his tone, I think Riven expected me to get upset. But I just shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "Good for him."

"You aren't mad?"

"Four years is more than enough time to fall out of love with someone, Riven. We all knew Diaspro had part of his heart anyway." We were silent for a few minutes, the club music filling in the space between us. "I had my own reasons for leaving. I don't belong in the magical dimension. And I have a good life here."

"I can see that. Your friend over there is pretty cute."

I raised an eyebrow. "And on that note, I demand you leave. The only friend of mine you get to date is Musa."

Despite his eyes temporarily darkening at Musa's name, he still nodded and stood up. "Stay in touch, kid."

"I will," I lied.

"Bull." He smirked, grabbing a pen out of his pocket and scribbling on a napkin. "But if you manage to find some dark and looming threat to the universe on this barren planet, hit me up."

I laughed. "Can do. Thanks, Riven."

He gave me another hug, though this one was more of a shoulder squeeze. "Happy birthday, Bloom."

Riven turned and disappeared into the crowd, still carrying the beer bottle. I watched him go for a moment, almost unable to help myself (that hair of his really did stand out), until even that was a blur amongst the whirling masses. Then I leaned back in my decidedly uncomfortable bar stool (was it really too much to ask for a decent place to sit?) and ordered a club soda from the bartender when he passed, not wanting to get up just yet.

I knew that as soon as I got back, there would be Anna to contend with, and her questions that I would have to answer eventually. There was no putting that girl off when she wanted to know something, a lesson I'd learned the hard way several times. But right now, I just didn't want to deal with it.

Reaching my hand down into the tissue paper-stuffed bag, I pulled out the bracelet again and slid it on, twisting my wrist back and forth and watching the charms sparkle in the strobe lights. _It really is a pretty piece_, I thought, admiring an intricately carved seashell charm that could have only been chosen by Layla. _They obviously put a lot of effort into it…_

I shook my head. _No_. Everything I said to Riven was completely correct – I _did_ have good reasons to leave, and I didn't belong in the magical dimension. Not really. All the girls had been getting deemed Guardian Fairies, making plans with the boys for the rest of their lives, and had just been so _happy_… and then there was me. I know I should have been too (the speech Faragonda gave us at the beginning of the first year about 'accepting this great opportunity' came to mind a lot), but all I could think of was what kind of life was left for me; I didn't have a planet to go home to, and I certainly didn't feel welcome on _Eraklyon_, so where did that leave me?

Besides, I had a pretty good life here. Anna and Ellis had been nothing but welcoming when they'd heard of my return, and I'd been building back my relationships with Mark, Ryo, Roxy, and even Andy a little. Thanks to a glowing letter of recommendation from Klaus for the summer before freshman year that I'd worked at the Fruity Music Bar, I'd managed to land a job at one of the big name publishers in Los Angeles. I worked a lot in the illustration department, especially for children's books that involved fairies. Lately, Anna had been trying to convince me to write something based on my adventures at Alfea, but I didn't think I was ready for that yet.

I sighed and looked in the direction Riven had disappeared. Sure, my life wasn't anything 'magical' anymore, but I was happy, and the dimension was safe. _Besides, _I added_,_ glancing down at the bracelet, _they're all fine without me._

_ Right?_

My eyes scanned the dancing crowds, not really paying attention to specific details; after all this time, they had started to blur together, one never-ending mass of short skirts, long limbs, people with too much alcohol and not enough inhibitions. Just as I was about to get up and face Anna, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that just about stopped my heart.

_No. It can't be…_

Narrowing my eyes through the flickering strobe lights (and eventually giving up and casting a quick night-vision spell; hey, nightclubs are dark places!), I focused in on a man leaning against the far wall, completely removed from all the chaos of the dance floor. Everything about him was nondescript, from his clothes – jeans and a white button-down shirt – to his hair, a brownish-red shade that was completely forgettable. But when he raised his eyes and looked my direction, my breath caught.

Quickly, I tore my gaze away, shifting in my seat to stare down at the clear Lucite of the bar, flashing different colors with the lights. Even then, I could still see them in my mind, hear a harrowingly familiar voice dragged up from the depths of my memory.

_That's not possible…_

Eventually, I managed to calm down, gripping the edge of the bar and taking a few deep breaths to steady myself. "You are not going crazy," I told myself, knowing that no one would be able to hear me over the music. "You've had a lot to drink. Seeing Riven probably just brought back a whole bunch of memories from junior year. It's dark in here, easy to make a mistake. _You are not going crazy_."

But like a glutton for punishment, I couldn't resist taking another look. What I saw this time, though, was nothing but empty wall.

_See? You probably just imagined him entirely. Now stop wallowing in Memory Lane and get on with your night._

I frowned, not quite willing to put it all down as a trick of the light despite the evidence. Those eyes… I would have recognized them anywhere…

But that wasn't my life anymore, I reminded myself. I'd given up that life, where danger lurked around every corner and you never knew when a random outing could turn into a fight for your life. And I could honestly say I was happier without it.

As if to prove my point, Anna finally gave up staring at came over to the other end of the bar. "I gotta get me one of those Red Fountain guys," she muttered, taking a sip of her martini. When the drink was about halfway to her lips, she stopped and gave me an odd look. "Are you okay? You're white as a ghost."

I shook my head. "Fine. Riven showing up just has me thinking in the past, I guess. People look like other people I used to know, things like that."

"Maybe he brought a friend." She shrugged. "Some girl you used to be in a class with?"

"It wasn't a girl. And I get the feeling Riven isn't seeing anyone right now," I added, a small pang hitting my chest. I'd have to ask Musa about it, once I was sure she wouldn't hold my head in front of a bass speaker as punishment for leaving (Musa and grudges – they went together well).

Anna took a sip from her glass. "Didn't you only date one guy at school – some annoying, mopey prince who was still hung up on a blonde twig?"

"You forgot conniving," I added absently. "And no, it wasn't Sky either."

"Well then, you'll just have to tell me who you thought it was, because I don't have most of your friends' names straight."

I forced a smile and stood. "Don't worry; it's not that important anyway. Wanna go find Ellis and make sure he hasn't made a complete fool of himself?"

"Hey, let's not be too optimistic. It is Ellis, after all."

I laughed. "Good point."

Smiling, we made our way onto the dance floor in search of Ellis. I kept my eyes open, but Riven was nowhere in sight. And neither was the other man. I tried to shake it off, but the image of those eyes was glued in my mind.

_Forget about it,_ I tried to tell myself. _There's no way you actually saw what you think you saw._

Those eyes had been one in a million, and that one was long gone.

* * *

**So, Authoress and I really wanted to this story updated before we had to go back to hel...uh, I mean school. And we (at least for our schools) have succeeded!**

**Yes, some of our old pals are back! For those of you who hang around my stories, you probably recognize Anna and Ellis from For Always and Forever. And Riven! He'll be popping up here and there throughout the story, because...come on, who doesn't love Riven? And our mystery man...he'll be back too (*evil chuckle*).**

**So this may seem like a complete 180 from the prologue; what do guys think? Are you excited? I hope so!**

**Now, sad news; Authoress starts school on Monday :-(. Hopefully this won't effect the updates too much (they shouldn't!), but I have another week before school starts, so we should be able to get some more stuff done before I have to go back too (summer, why are you so short and filled with so much Call Me Maybe?). Of course, you can motivate us by leaving words of encouragement along with your review (because you were already going to review, right ;-) )! A & I are really hoping to break the review record Leap of Faith has (124 as of right now), so every one counts!**

**Thanks for everyone's support so far (seriously, you guys are awesome!), and stay tuned for more!**

**ember & Authoress**


	3. Chapter 2

"Hey Bloom, do you have the pictures for Laura done? We're hoping to up the deadline by a week."

I smiled a little, my hands staying perfectly still as I worked on the shimmering wings of the fairy I was drawing. After working at Gilded Lily publishing house for almost three years (named after an old book that became an international bestseller), almost nothing caused me to lose focus when I was drawing. Not even my head publisher barging into my office (again), unannounced (again), with a coffee in hand for me as compensation (I swear, I never paid for coffee anymore. It was kind of nice).

When you think of bosses, I'm fairly sure Gabrielle Bashir is the last person you'd picture. She was extremely serious about the writing we produced, yet at the same time she made sure to blend all the staff together as much as possible as a sort of pseudo-family (her favorite phrase was that your friends were God's way of apologizing for your family). Whether that meant monthly office parties or putting together two writers who she thought could collaborate well, one thing was clear; Gaby was good at what she did, and she did so while keeping her hair perfect. It would be easy to hate her if she wasn't so endearing.

Once I found a good place to stop, I set the pencil down and took the coffee from her. "I think I can manage that. Can Laura?"

"Oh yeah, she's fine. Excited, even. That book is selling _much_ faster than we expected."

"Little girls and fairies – everyone's favorite combination."

"Everyone's favorite with you drawing them." She leaned over my desk, taking in the scene I was working on – three girls, fluttery wings and all, looking out over a vast landscape that may or may not have been modeled after Limphea. "I swear, Peters, I don't know how you come up with this stuff."

Another smile crossed my face, but this one was a bit sadder. "Neither do I."

She didn't pick up on my mood change, for which I was thankful. Instead, she sat down on the black leather couch opposite my desk, absently picking lint off her pants. "Now, I'm sure you're curious why I'm asking you to finish up the drawings early. Or why I would need to sit here and tell you about it."

I raised an eyebrow. Normally I wouldn't, but I knew when Gaby started out conversations like that, it was the start of one of her 'dynamic duo' plans. "I am now. Please tell me you aren't pairing me up with Watson again. Gaby, I love the guy, but he writes about _ogres_. I'm not good with ogres."

To my relief, she laughed. "No, no – Watson's going solo for his next book. What I've got for you is a fantastic collaboration opportunity you simply _cannot_ refuse."

I'd heard that before – and I'd also refused. Still, Gaby's collaborations didn't come about without long and hard thought; the least I could do was hear her out. "Hit me."

She grinned. "Fantastic. So, as I'm sure you're already aware, we're adding a few new writers around here."

"I noticed. Mainly because of all the boxes in the hallways you were moving to clear up office space."

"No sassing your boss." Gaby smirked. "But yes, the person I'm referring to has a new office downstairs. He just moved here from New York, and this is his first novel; I've looked at the story drafts, and they are fantastic. It's sort of a sci-fi thriller romance thing, and I think it's got the potential to be a hit. His name's Thomas Crowell."

"Sounds interesting." I leaned back in my chair and crossed one leg over the other. "But it hardly sounds like a picture book, so… where do I come in?"

"Come on, you and I both know you're more than just a picture book illustrator, Bloom. I don't know what was going on in your childhood, but you have one of the most vivid imaginations I've ever known. And since you won't seem to pick up the pen and write your own stuff, the least you can do is help this guy out. It's right up your alley with the fairies and all, just a little more grown-up than your usual books. Do you think you can handle that?"

"Of course," I shot back, before realizing she'd effectively just trapped me into agreeing to her crazy plan. I groaned as she laughed.

"Perfect. So you'll do it."

"You haven't exactly left me much of a choice, have you?"

"Oh, but you'd have done it anyways once you met him." Gaby's dark eyes sparkled as she leaned in close. "Between you and me, I wouldn't mind having long meetings with him all the time, if you know what I mean?"

I arched an eyebrow at her. "Gaby! How very unprofessional of you. And what would Ben say?" I asked, referring to her longtime boyfriend, a talent scout for a record label whose lax schedule meant he spent a lot of time hanging out at the office. (There was currently a bet going on how long it would take him to finally pop the question; I had fifty bucks on it happening within the next six months.)

She raised her perfectly shaped brows right back at me. "Hey, I have a boyfriend, not a blindfold. I'm allowed to admire the scenery." Laughing as she got to her feet, she added, "But seriously, I think this will be good for you. When exactly was the last time you had a date?" I pursed my lips, not wanting to think about the answer. This was bordering on invasion of privacy, especially since she was my boss, but I'd long since learned that this was the way Gaby operated, always slightly blurring the lines of strict professionalism. Considering how many other ways I benefited from this, I could hardly complain. "I'm not saying you _have_ to do anything, but keep an open mind. And if nothing else, enjoy the view."

"If you say so. So when can I finally meet this wonder-man?"

"Right now, if you want. He's unpacking his things downstairs as we speak."

I glanced down at the picture on my desk, deciding that it could wait for the moment. Getting Gaby out of my office as soon as possible sounded like a good idea right now, and with any luck, I'd be back to finish it soon. "Okay then."

"I want a matchmaker's credit in the toast at your wedding," she called as I headed down the hall. Rather than answer back, I simply rolled my eyes.

The Gilded Lily building wasn't that big to begin with, so I stopped in the break room down the hall and grabbed another coffee for this Thomas Crowell. Based on Gaby's already persistent attempts to push us together, I knew this could likely be a long collaboration, and I didn't want her playing the 'it could've worked out if you weren't so distant' card.

I knew Gaby meant well, but I'd be lying if I said her constantly playing matchmaker didn't annoy me. I'd lost track of the times she'd tried to set me up, whether it be a new writer here, or some old friend of hers that, despite whatever odd habit they had, she insisted deep down was just a softie with a heart of gold. I guess after a three-year relationship, I wasn't that interested in getting back in another one, no matter how adorable this guy was.

Thomas's office was right down the hall from Gaby's, so I saw her poke her head out the door as I rounded the corner, the two coffees in hand. She smirked at me, and for a moment I considered casting that old sleep spell Avalon had taught me – I could at least get some peace and quiet until lunch. But I'd promised myself long ago to only use magic in case of an emergency. While Gaby's annoying habits came close, they had yet to qualify as such. So I rolled my eyes again and carefully opened the door, somehow managing to keep both the drinks upright.

"Hello?" I called, my eyes glancing around the room. It was a decent-sized space, but you never would've been able to tell with all the boxes cluttered around, and the desk – probably another one of those self-assemble ones Gaby had found at Ikea – halfway assembled in the middle of the room.

I set the coffees down on the most steady-looking stack of boxes I could find, and gasped as it promptly fell over, spilling books all over the floor and staining some of them. I swore, and on an automatic impulse waved my hand over the mess, muttering a spell under my breath. The books shook a bit before flying back into their respective boxes and stacking back up; the coffee went back into the cups, which flew over and landed on the small coffee table in the corner.

Quickly, I glanced out the frosted-glass window in the door, making sure no one (Gaby) had seen my slip-up. Thankfully, the hallways were empty. With a sigh, I went to grab the drinks and toss them (I'd learned the hard way that using a rewind spell to save a spilled drink made it taste _terrible_; something to do with magic getting infused into it), and promptly get the hell out. I could try and find this Thomas guy during my break, after I got my _real_ work done.

That idea was short-lived, however, when my eyes fell upon one of the larger boxes in the bunch with the words 'Mythology References' in surprisingly neat handwriting. I knew it was stupid (and possible a huge invasion of privacy), but I was curious. The reference books must've been old, since the Internet had pretty much killed them off years ago. And the older the books were meant the more likely they were to have accurate information about the _actual_ magic dimension (I'd learned that there were plenty of authors from the magical dimension who'd gotten their works published on Earth, therefore bringing the ideas of the magical dimension with them).

When I opened it up, I discovered the box was packed with a number of thick, old-looking books. I grabbed a dark blue one at random, and opening it found it full of old spells from Vallisto. I smiled a little as I flipped through it – there was another copy of the book in the Alfea library, and I remembered Flora and I scrambling through it to find spells for a report back in freshman year. I'd tried looking for it for a few of my final term papers since, but it'd already been checked out, I guess, since I couldn't find it anywhere.

I started looking through some of the other ones, but finally managed to pull myself away and shut the box. It didn't matter how interested I was – the books weren't mine, and I had no right to be snooping through them. If I were new, the last thing I'd have wanted to see was some weird guy looking through my stuff. Besides, Gaby would never forgive me if I got her newest piece of eye candy to quit on his first day. I stood up and straightened out my dress, heading for the door.

I'd only made it about three steps before my body collided against something tall and solid. Just barely managing to keep my balance, I grabbed onto the first thing I could find, which happened to be what looked like a white-shirt-clad arm. My cheeks burned as I realized that I'd most likely just walked into the man I was supposed to be working with for the foreseeable future. _Great way to make a first impression,_ I silently scolded myself, regaining my footing. An apology was on the tip of my tongue… until I looked up for the first time and met his eyes.

And then it took everything I had not to scream.

"Are you alright, miss?" It took a moment for his words to pierce the veil of utter shock around my mind, but when they did, I quickly let go of his arm and took a few steps back, fighting to regain my composure. "Although perhaps the better question is what are you doing in my office in the first place…?" He raised an eyebrow at me, but I barely noticed, too busy staring in disbelief.

_Of all the luck in the world…_

It was the guy from the club on my birthday. The one I'd never in a million years assumed I'd see again, who I'd been half convinced was just a mirage.

_Apparently not._

"Do I know you?" he continued, obviously feeling the need to fill the silence. "I don't know why, but you look familiar."

_Pull yourself together, Bloom!_ barked a little voice in the back of my head. Taking a deep breath, I straightened up and said, "My name is Bloom Peters. Gabrielle was telling me about your book, and she's big on collaborations and having us get to know each other, so she… sort of sent me down here to help you. I mean, only if you need it. She may have just randomly decided to pair us up – she does that sometimes, and I know you're new here so you might not be used to it, so…" I finally got my mouth to stop, feeling my stomach drop. _Smooth, Bloom. Real smooth…_

After a moment, a smirk crossed his face, and my heart almost stopped at the similarity. Sure, Thomas's hair was much darker, and up close his eyes were obviously hazel, not the gold I'd thought they were at the club, but there was just something about him that sent me reeling back into memories of another life. "Are you always this articulate?" he asked, his voice smooth and confident.

My eyes almost popped out of my skull. "I… um…"

He chuckled a little, and walked past me toward the box full of mythology books. "You know, if you wanted to borrow a book, you didn't have to break into my office."

I shook my head. _Get a grip, girl._ "You can't break into a place if the door is unlocked. And I didn't mean to snoop. Those books are just…"

"Pretty interesting, huh? I found a lot of them in old antique shops in Manhattan. The spell ones are the most interesting in my opinion; I can't believe that people actually used to believe in things like that."

"Yeah… it's crazy."

I looked up to catch his eye, seeing something like amusement dancing in his gaze. "And yet so many people today are 'crazy' enough to spend their money keeping people like us in a job, writing about these imaginary worlds."

"Maybe they like the idea of escaping from reality into what can never be," I muttered under my breath, more contemplatively than as an actual response.

"I beg your pardon?" _Damn. He heard that._

I laughed, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Fantasy's always been a big draw, hasn't it? People want to forget about their ordinary lives, take a trip into the extraordinary and unreal."

"Is that the draw for you, Ms Peters?"

I inhaled sharply. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you decide to do this with your life? Are you one of those people who enjoys taking a break from reality?" Thomas leaned against the doorway, looking completely casual despite the somewhat personal nature of the question he'd just asked. _Just like he used to…_

My palms were starting to sweat slightly, and I discreetly wiped them on the skirt of my dress. "I… don't think that's really any of your business, Mr. Crowell," I said finally.

The corners of his lips turned up in a small smile. "Please, call me Thomas. It seems silly not to be on a first-name basis, if we're going to be working together for the foreseeable future."

"Has anyone ever told you you're extremely forward, Thomas?"

He chuckled. "Has anyone ever told _you_ you're extremely pale?"

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You look like you've just seen a ghost. Are you feeling alright?"

"I… I'm fine," I said, crossing my arms.

Thomas straightened up from the doorway and started unloading a nearby box. It was full of notebooks. "I certainly hope you're a better writer than you are a liar."

"You're the one who has to do the writing. I'm just here to help." I narrowed my eyes at him. "And since I haven't seen any of this story Gaby claims is so fantastic, maybe you should hold off on such big statements."

"Well there's an easy solution to that, then, isn't there?" He dropped the notebook in his hands, and it landed with a slight _thump_. "Do you have lunch plans?"

My mouth dropped involuntarily, but I snapped it shut almost instantly. "Um…"

"Short notice, I know," Thomas continued, his eyes focused on his briefcase as he dug through it looking for something. "But it would be a good opportunity to get to know each other. I could give you the basic rundown of the story; though like all other authors, I'm afraid my oral story-telling abilities aren't much. I mean, it seems like so much of this one is in my head – in fact, remind me to tell you about the dream I had that inspired this one scene. There was this huge waterfall on a mountain, but the water was flowing _backwards_–"

"I have plans," I cut him off, feeling both relieved and guilty as the words bounced off my tongue. His head snapped up, obviously surprised, and I rushed to give an explanation. "I mean, I would. But… the air-conditioning in my apartment is broken. Someone's coming to fix it today, but my roommate's hours are a lot less lenient than mine are here, so I told her I'd wait at home for the repairman. I mean, it's much easier for me to draw at home than her selling clothes, right?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Air-conditioning, huh? You do know it's December, so if anything it would be your _heater_ that needs fixing?"

My cheeks burned. "I… um…"

That familiar smirk was back. "You're still not a good liar, Bloom." He turned his back to me, and for some reason I felt a little spark of annoyance. I wanted out of this conversation, but that didn't mean I wanted to be treated like I wasn't important. "Don't worry, I'll let it go this time. We've got plenty of time to get to know each other, after all. Say hi to the repairman for me."

"I… I'll do that," I stuttered out, turning on my heel and walking quickly towards the stairs before I could say anything stupid. My heart was beating fast, even though I'd done nothing more physically exerting than walk down a flight of stairs in the last half hour.

The last time I'd had an encounter like that was four years ago. A simple conversation that left me this unbalanced… I'd only ever met one person with the power to do that.

But I knew better than anyone that he was gone. And though magic can do some pretty incredible things, even it has limits.

_People don't come back from the dead._

* * *

"The _air-conditioning_? You did _not_ say that."

"It was the first thing that came to mind, okay? Sue me," I replied, typing furiously away at my laptop.

"Still," Anna said, taking a slice of pizza from the box on the kitchen counter. (The only way my cooking tasted decent was with magic, and Anna failed home-ec twice, so she wasn't allowed to make anything that required more than a microwave. As a result, we ordered in a lot.) "I don't know why you're so paranoid. There are tons of theories that someone in the world looks just like someone else. Including the magic dimension, there are what? Fifty billion people?"

"Seventy-three."

She rolled her eyes. "You are officially paranoid. What are you even looking up on there anyway?"

I shook my head. "Nothing, nothing. Just… getting some old files sent to me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are these files being sent by that adorable boy who showed up at the club last weekend?"

I groaned and pointed to the hallway leading to her room. "Out. Now."

"Hey, I pay for half the rent – I can go where I want!"

"Or I can _make_ your feet move out of here."

A balled-up napkin hit the side of my head. "I'm going, I'm going. Give River my number?"

"It's _Riven_, and no."

"You are the worst best friend ever."

"I love you too!" I called as she headed down the hall and shut the door to her bedroom. A moment later, my computer buzzed and a message popped up on the screen, along with an attachment (which by the looks of its name, came from the official records of the Magix Council). _Here it is, one death certificate in all its dark glory. Do you plan to tell me what this is about?_

I smirked at the screen, moving the chat window over so I could open the document. _Maybe later. Thanks, Riven._

_ So I can take that as a never? Wonderful. No problem babe, but don't bother wasting your time with it. I looked it over, and there isn't anything in there we don't already know._

I grimaced involuntarily. _I'll take my chances._

_ Whatever_. There was a ping and Riven logged off, leaving me with the page and my thoughts.

Carefully, I scrolled through the document, but Riven was right. Everything listed was exactly as I remembered, with no extra information.

_Baltor, originally from the (former) planet Sparx. Date of death: 13th of May, 2007 at the hands of twelve fairies (Alfea) and Red Fountain heroes-in-training, known as the Winx Club and the Specialists…_

I set the laptop aside, taking a deep breath. I didn't know what it was about that sentence that seemed to put my nerves at ease, but for some reason it did. Maybe because it was reminding me of the obvious; Baltor was gone. Baltor had _been_ gone – for about four and a half years now. If by some magical force he had come back, not only would he have made his move already, but I would've been able to sense it. Especially in a vicinity like my office.

Thomas Crowell was _not_ Baltor.

* * *

**It's Labor Day! That means a three day weekend, and that means updates!**

**So...I'm sure that Thomas isn't exactly the guy you were expecting. But, I assure you, he's going to be pretty important in the coming chapters (and I'm sure some of you smarties out there have already figured out how). What do you think of him?**

**We hope that you weren't waiting too long for updates; school is annoying, but we're both working hard to get these out as fast as possible. If you still need your sparxshipping fix, however, remember If We Ever Meet Again is up on Authoress's page!**

**Remember to leave a review on your way out!**

**ember & Authoress**


	4. Chapter 3

_Alpha. The first solid mass to coalesce from the chaos, the first planet born out of the swirling cosmological void when the universe was new._

_And a living hell._

_The sun beat down relentlessly on a landscape as dry and desolate as the few meager plants that somehow managed to eke out life on this dead world. There were no trees or rivers or mountains - nothing but sand, an endless expanse of uninhabitable desert. The temperature bounced between extremes: boiling hot in the day, freezing cold at night, with no respite from either._

_There was only one thing on Alpha that had been built by man in all the years since its creation from the void. A prison, dug deep into the earth, where the worst of the worst were sent to suffer and die, neglected and forgotten as Alpha had been by the rest of the universe for so many years. Even Time had abandoned Alpha, leaving the people there stuck like flies in amber, denying them even the relief of death._

_It was the perfect place, Valentine thought, to toss the garbage you don't want to remember, so it can rot away without bothering you with its stench._

_Miles below the surface, the only way out was up, through the hole in the ground that comprised what most of its denizens simply called 'the pit'. Every person sent down over the centuries had looked up to the light and imagined climbing to freedom. And like shipwrecked men turning to seawater from uncontrollable thirst, many had died trying._

_Even if a person could manage to escape the pit, there were still the natural horrors of the planet itself to contend with. And then one had to find a way back to civilization - far harder even than it sounded, since nothing came to Alpha but transport ships dropping off more prisoners._

_No one had ever escaped from Alpha in its five hundred years of sucking up the scum of the magical dimension._

_ Valentine aimed to be the first._

__x

_The key was all in the timing._

_To have even a chance, some strategizing was necessary. There was a reason that everyone who had ever made the climb had failed - they had been unable to think beyond their desperate need to be free of this hellhole. He had seen it too many times, previously healthy minds twisted in despair until they resorted to the only freedom they were ever going to get - a self-inflicted death._

_Valentine was determined to never be so foolish._

_And unlike the others, whose spirits had been broken by the endless flow of time without the promise of a light at the end of the tunnel, he hadn't given up, either. He still looked up at the sky and dreamed of the day when he would be able to look down at the pit from above and laugh at all the years he had been forced to languish there, forgotten by the rest of the universe. That was what kept the insanity that had taken many prisoners' minds from affecting him, as the years passed by but left him unchanged._

_At times, he likened the eternal sentence to being buried alive. But at least he _was_ alive, and his mind as sharp as ever, which was more than many could say. So he waited, observing with a keen eye for detail and learning everything he could about the rat cage in which he was trapped._

_It was ironic, then, how after all of his waiting and scheming, his escape ended up being so unplanned._

__x

_As a rule, Valentine didn't bother trying to get to know any of his fellow prisoners. He had never been much for companionship, and it struck him as particularly useless down here. Any kind of attachment meant the person would inevitably expect to be part of his escape plan when the time came, and that was more variables to factor in than he wanted to account for. While others formed friendships as a way to keep from going crazy, he was content in his solitude. And the more he disregarded the others, the more they kept their distance. It was a win-win._

_ Nevertheless, that didn't mean he was deaf and blind to any of the goings-on around him regarding other prisoners._

_ New prisoners were nothing interesting; they were usually brought in every other week, and ranged from a single person to a small army. But like the others, they were either scared stiff or already crazy. Everyone had learned to disregard them; they were hopeless, anyway._

_ "Get your damn hands off me! I'm a criminal, not a handicap!"_

_Or so Valentine thought._

_ The voice - and its owner - quickly made herself known. The stubborn young woman - Krystal was her name - had been thrown into Alpha after trying to raise the Army of the Dead to enslave the world, and breaking out of the mental rehabilitation center she'd been confined to in a pathetic attempt to quell her anger. And she wasn't alone. Two other girls seemed to be constantly at her side. There was talk they were related, but it was difficult to tell since they looked nothing alike. Maeve was thin as a twig and as manipulative as a snake; the other, Audra, seemed to be in a constant fit of rage, and spent her free time creating miniature dust storms that sometimes reached the top of the cavern._

_ They were different, that much was obvious. Valentine had never seen anyone in the pit as aware as they were. They didn't interact with anyone (unless it was to pick a fight with another prisoner, which seemed to happen often), and like him watched others try to climb to freedom instead of letting the idea cloud their judgment. Often, he could hear them talking late into the night, plotting the best way out. Those discussions would then inevitably give way to what the three would do when they escaped, usually involving very gory details about a girl named Rachel, who was apparently to blame for their imprisonment._

_ Whoever she was, Valentine got the distinct impression their reunion wouldn't be pretty._

_ As the weeks passed, and Valentine's curiosity kept him awake later and later into the night, it became obvious that Krystal had a plan. Maeve had somehow managed to smuggle in a small spell book and journal, which gave them an immediate advantage over the rest of the prisoners. They created elaborate diagrams of the walls, working out where to jump and how far it was. They plotted what time of day the wind picked up so they wouldn't be battling two elements on the way up. Eventually, Krystal made the final call; they would be escaping on the night of the full moon, just after everyone else fell asleep, and would make a run for a cargo ship taking off at five in the morning from the main military base, about five miles from the pit they were in. It was foolproof._

_ "You don't have a cloaking spell that blocks you from cameras."_

_ Audra had been trying to get her footing on the first ledge of the wall - about three feet off the ground. When Valentine spoke, her head snapped backwards and she fell, landing hard on the stone floor. She started to swear, but stopped herself when she remembered everyone else was asleep._

_ Maeve looked surprised to find him there. Krystal looked uninterested. "We have everything we need, thank you."_

_ "Your spell is fairly complex, true." Valentine went on as though she hadn't spoken. "However, if I read it correctly - and I _did_ read it, since you picked a very poor hiding place. Everyone knows the northeast steps have loose bricks perfect for hiding things. I digress, though - if I read the spell correctly, it comes from the eastern quadrant, yes?"_

_ Krystal bit her tongue, obviously fighting back rage, and nodded._

_ "And if you'd bothered to look at a map, you would know we're in the _western _quadrant, which famously kicked the eastern quadrant's ass to Hell and back in the 250-year war. And that victory was the result of the advanced satellite technology that wasn't affected by spells, allowing them to see the army headed towards them before it even got within the atmosphere. It was so successful, the program was required to be installed in every camera in a palace, museum, or - and this is the real kicker - any prison. So if you'd like, then please; keep thinking the military base on the most maximum security prison known to man doesn't have cameras. I'll see you back here bright and early for breakfast."_

_Maeve and Audra gaped, as Krystal bit her lip fiercely, trying not to react. "Who _are_ you?" Audra asked finally._

"_My name is Valentine, and I have been here for far too long. I've spent years planning an escape, and I know more about this place than anyone. Your plan, though flawed, shows some of the most potential I've ever seen. I would be happy to volunteer my extensive knowledge to improve on the weakness-"_

"_But let me guess," Krystal interrupted, arms crossed over her chest. "You're not going to do this for nothing. You want in."_

_He smiled. "I knew you were a bright girl, Krystal."_

"_No way-"_

"_Krys, you heard him," Maeve said. "We've got a major weak spot and no way to fix it, not without regrouping for another week or so. And I don't know about you, but if I have to stay here one more day, I'm going to lose it."_

"_Yeah," Audra chimed in. "I can't take any more of this place. I can just feel the dry air sucking my magic with every passing day. I need _rain_."_

"_By all means, ladies, keep debating if that's what makes you happy," Valentine interjected. "But the guards will be switching watches soon, and I'd really rather not be caught out when that happens. I've never actually experienced the punishment for that, but it doesn't sound fun."_

_The other two looked expectantly at Krystal, who finally heaved an enormous sigh. "Fine. If you can help us, you're in. But don't get any ideas about-"_

* * *

"I had no idea it was such a page-turner."

I practically jumped out of my skin, spinning around with one hand raised and starting to produce a fireball, which I quickly cut off when I remembered where I was. Thankfully it didn't look like the magic had reached my hand, just left it a little warm.

Thomas took a step back at my raised fist, but still had an arrogant smile on his face. "Sorry, sorry; I didn't mean to startle you."

"You hardly look sorry," I said, lowering my hand. I placed the pages on my desk, making sure they didn't accidentally land in an open container of paint or something (Gaby swore that our biggest expense here was not paper, but all the paint I wasted). "What do you want?"

"I came here because Gaby told me she sent you my draft to read through." He cast a knowing look towards the desk. "I see you like it."

"It's... interesting." In truth, Gaby had been right - it was fantastic. I'd picked it up out of idle curiosity when my drawing hand was screaming for a break, and hadn't been able to put the damn thing down since. But there was no way I was admitting that to Thomas, especially since he was smirking at me like he already knew how I really felt without me having to say a word. "Risky choice, to tell a story from the villain's point of view," I added, trying to sound confident. "That could just as easily blow up in your face as it could become the next bestseller."

He shook his head. "So quick to call Valentine a villain."

I arched an eyebrow. "You can't have it both ways. You do such a spectacular job with the imagery in describing Alpha, and then you expect me to believe our main character isn't a bad guy? He's just, what, wrongfully accused?"

"I never said he hasn't done bad things." Thomas took a few steps out of the doorway into the main body of my office, and I didn't know how to tell him I didn't want him to come any further without sounding rude. Instead, I busied myself with tidying up the open paints on my desk, trying not to look at him. "But he's not evil through and through. As the story progresses, we start to see a different side of him, and learn more about the reasons why he did the things he did. At heart, the book is about exploring what makes someone a 'bad' person, and whether parts of a person's past can affect their ability to have a better future. Valentine's not black or white, and that's what I think makes him so much fun to write. And hopefully, to read."

"You seem awfully invested in this character."

Thomas chuckled. "Curious, isn't it? I mean, I know all authors connect with their characters on some level. But out of everything I've ever written, I feel the most connected with him. It's odd, because I've had people tell me it happens, and I just feel like... I'm on a deeper level than they are. They can't begin to understand the way I see it." He paused, and that smirk came back. "And now you're staring at me like I'm a wild animal out of its cage. Perhaps I've said too much."

"No, no. Your point of view is... unique, but not anything new. Trust me, I've heard people ramble on and on about the personal connections they have with their characters. Bring in your sketchbook full of character designs, and then I'll be impressed."

"Remind me to leave it at home."

My eyes widened. "You do _not_ have a book full of character sketches."

He just shrugged. "I got bored."

"When I get bored, I watch TV, or play stupid games on my phone."

His gaze shifted pointedly to the art supplies on my desk. "You don't draw outside of work?"

I pursed my lips. Ever since moving back to Earth, whenever I tried to draw for fun, my hands ended up working independently of my body and sketching things I didn't want to remember - my dorm room at Alfea, Stella's princess ball, the mermaids on Tides... Eventually, I'd given up on it as a hobby. "I have to draw the line between business and pleasure somehow," I said coolly, quickly sweeping the paints and pencils into a drawer without making sure all the lids were secure (a fact I knew I'd pay for later). "And anyway, I looked at your overview. You have, what, almost twenty different characters? That's a little more than a boredom-killer, if you ask me."

"Like I said the other day, a lot of this stuff comes to me in dreams. When I wake up, I don't want to forget any of it, and most of the time it's faster just to draw what I remember than try to describe it in words." He cracked a grin. "Which means I can't say much about the _quality_ of the drawings, since they're usually done at three in the morning."

"So, you get your ideas from dreams? Please tell me there aren't any vampires in this story."

He laughed. "That woman gives writing a bad name. Trust me, Valentine's story is completely vampire and werewolf-free."

I raised an eyebrow. "What about the overly-clichéd love triangle?"

"Now _that_ would certainly spoil the story." I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a finger. "Sorry, you'll just have to read it yourself."

"Well, that could be a while. I've got some illustrations I need to finish this week, with a lot of details to get done."

He took a step backwards, holding up his hands in a defensive position. "Far be it from me to keep you from your _work,_" he said, a hint of an amused smile creeping into the corners of his lips. "However, I may have a solution."

"Do you now?" I asked, reaching under the table to move some wires.

"I was hoping to finally cash in on that lunch date."

My head snapped up so fast I knocked it against the underside of the wooden tabletop. I swore and pressed my hand against the back of my head, hoping to dull the pain. "You... what?"

"I didn't realize the proposal of a date was so shocking. My apologies."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a minute. Yesterday it was just a friendly lunch to go over your story; when did the word _date_ become involved?"

He laughed. "Have a boyfriend, do you?" My cheeks burned bright red. "I promise to keep things completely professional. But this only further proves my point - I don't know very much about you, and if we're going to be working together, then I'd like to get to know you better."

My head was beginning to throb, which I knew would turn into a full-blown headache soon despite my best efforts. "Um, today's not great - I was planning to work through lunch for this deadline - and then tomorrow I'm meeting with Laura, and..."

"Friday?"

I tensed. "Friday? Well, Gaby usually calls me in for those silly weekly meetings then. You know her; wants to make sure we're all doing well on the deadlines and getting along with everybody-"

Thomas laughed again. "You're kidding, right? The minute she finds out you're in her office instead of out with me, she'll probably make reservations and hire us a limo."

My eyes widened. "Did she put you up to this?"

He smirked knowingly. "Asking you out? I will admit she's been hinting at it ever since I stepped in the door, but trust me, I'm offering because _I_ want to get to know you. It has nothing to do with Gabrielle."

The comment caused me to blush. "Oh. Well..."

"I'm sure she'll forgive you if you slip off for a few hours with me. Especially if it means getting the book published faster."

Slowly, I nodded. Why the hell not? I didn't have anything to lose, and if I kept avoiding Thomas like the plague, not only would it take forever for the book to get published, but Gaby might seriously consider firing me. "...Okay. I guess Friday sounds good. In fact, I think I know a place we can get a good discount." I had never been so grateful for Ellis's absent mind; there was no way I was going out with this guy without a person I knew, even if all he'd be doing was bringing me a drink.

"Ah, a girl paying for the first date. I like it."

"Nuh-uh. No 'date.' Just a friendly lunch to discuss your book."

Thomas smiled - genuinely smiled - and it almost took my breath away. After a moment though, he seemed to realize he was doing it, and his face returned to a neutral slate. However, I could still see a little light in his eyes. "Well alright then. Friday it is." He headed towards the door.

"I-I don't, by the way." The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back.

He paused in the doorway, obviously not following. "You don't what?"

I considered dropping it, but I knew I would kick myself for it later. Instead, I took a deep breath. "H-have a boyfriend. I haven't dated in years."

When he turned around to face me, my breath caught in my throat. The angle of the late-morning sun coming through the window had lit his eyes to gold, and combined with the amused and slightly predatory gleam in them, it was like seeing a ghost. "All the better, then," he said, his voice soft. "I'll see you on Friday, Bloom."

The minute he was out the door, I sat down in my desk chair with a loud thump and started rummaging through my drawers to find the aspirin; I was going to need it if I planned on getting any work done.

This was getting ridiculous. Riven had sent me his _death certificate_, for God's sake. Baltor was dead, and had been dead for four years, and more so, I had killed him. There was no reason to be getting into such a tizzy over someone who had a slight resemblance. It was like I'd told Anna; seventy-three billion people in the universe.

Absently, I picked up the manuscript, flipping through the pages. It really was an interesting book. I'd only gone through a few pages, and I was already hooked. Yet at the same time, I felt like I'd read this story before...

I sighed. Of course it sounded familiar. Most science fiction stories used the same basic elements: barren prison worlds, the team that wanted to take over the universe, and the good guys who eventually stopped them. I'd lived that story more than enough times to know the plot. It was all in my head.

It had to be.

* * *

_The other two looked expectantly at Krystal, who finally heaved an enormous sigh. "Fine. If you can help us, you're in. But don't get any ideas about being in charge. This is still my plan, my escape."_

_Valentine inclined his head slightly, the barest minimum of a nod. "Of course. It would be foolish to think otherwise."_

_The cargo ship was dark and cold, filled with heavy metal crates that were too easy to hide behind. The men doing the unloading had barely glanced in the cargo hold before taking off, obviously not thinking anyone could've possibly escaped the pit and stowed away in their ship._

_ Their mistake, thought Valentine._

__x

_ The three witches were huddled in one corner, whispering among themselves. He could've listened in if he cared to, but instead, he was staring aimlessly at the wall, trying to process this new turn of events. It almost didn't feel real, how after all his years of patiently waiting and plotting an escape, he was finally free of the infernal pit._

_ And, he'd realized, he had almost no idea where to go from here._

_ The walls jolted as the ship hit a patch of turbulence. Krystal looked up from their little triumvirate and caught his eye. "Why were you sent to Alpha, Valentine?" she asked, her stare piercing._

_ For the first time since he'd set foot on the sand above the pit, Valentine felt himself smile. "If the gossip is correct - and I've found that in prison, those things usually are - then I did what you ladies tried to do. Only they had to work a lot harder to catch me."_

_ Krystal's eyes narrowed, while Maeve and Audra looked vaguely impressed. "And what are you going to do now that you're free?"_

_ "I'm not quite sure. Granted, there are certain... people, whose reunions with me are long overdue. The question is how to go about it."_

_ "I'm always a fan of a man who craves revenge." Maeve smirked, her voice deeper than it'd been a moment ago. She was obviously trying to impress him, and the thought made Valentine smirk inwardly._

_ "We're looking for a few people ourselves."_

_ "So I've overheard. This... Rachel? You three could write horror movies with the descriptions you've come up with."_

_ Krystal's eyes darkened. "You have no idea. That little bitch is the source of all our troubles. She and her little friends got us thrown in here in the first place. And we're looking to get even."_

_ "Ah. And how do you plan to do that if she's already defeated you twice?"_

_ She smirked. "I have a few ideas. However... you know the old saying; 'the more the merrier.'"_

_ Valentine raised an eyebrow. "You're asking for my help?"_

_ "Not help so much as... temporary assistance. Like you said, we can't just go barging in again and expect to take them down. And you need time to work out your own plans. Our combined efforts have gotten us this far; why break up such a good relationship, when it's barely even started?"_

_ My, how her attitude had changed. Valentine could sense her manipulative skills, but unlike her friends, he could easily see through them. That didn't mean, though, that he didn't see the truth to what she was saying._

_ He had been stuck in the pit for far too long, after all. The world was likely to have changed in all that time, and it couldn't hurt to have backup, at least at first. And in all the years he'd spent planning his escape, he'd given little thought as to who needed to be reminded of his existence - and how. That was something which would definitely need to be rectified..._

_"So long as we're clear on the nature of this... partnership. You ladies are obviously clever, ambitious, and powerful, and as a team, we are likely to have a greater chance of achieving our separate goals. But don't expect me to follow anyone's orders."_

_ Krystal held his stare, looking perfectly composed. "Of course. It would be foolish to think otherwise."_

_ He caught the underlying sarcasm in her using his own words against him, but chose not to comment. However powerful she thought she was, he knew his talents far exceeded her own. "Well then, ladies, I do believe this is the beginning of something brilliant."_

_ The cargo ship lumbered through space, its pilots completely unaware of just what they were really bringing back with them._

* * *

**Why hello there!**

**So, if you're anything like me, you've just spent the last hour totally fangirl-ing over the Once Upon A Time premiere (cough-RumBelle-cough). So, to get your mind off of _those_ feels, Authoress and I decided to give you these. :-)**

**Now, I've gotta say it; we seriously hope you like the exerts from Thomas' book. We're having so much fun working with that. And maybe you've noticed it's a bit familiar...I'm sure it's a coincidence (lies).**

**But of course, I digress. We really hope you like this chapter, and you're looking forward to Thomas and Bloom's date in the next chapter. And I _know_ I don't even need to mention how easy it is to review now, right?**

**Have an awesome week, everyone!**

**ember & Authoress**


	5. Chapter 4

As I paced back and forth outside The Wharf, all I could think was that this was the stupidest idea I'd had in recent years.

Once Anna found out I had a semi-formal date, she'd immediately gone into what Ellis and I had once dubbed 'matchmaker mode'. This consisted of her picking out dresses I thought were too short, makeup I thought was way too much, and shoes with heels that could double as a weapon. I'd managed to shake her off, but not before she'd shoved me into a strapless red top of hers that she usually wore clubbing. At least I'd been able to talk her out of the short-shorts (California or not, it was_ December_, for God's sake) so I could wear my favorite jeans and a pair of brown ankle boots.

I'd gotten to the restaurant early, relieved to find Ellis's car in the lot. Unfortunately, that meant I now had time to sit and wait for Thomas to show up, which allowed my head to generate a seemingly endless number of reasons why this was a bad idea. What business did Gaby have trying to set me up with someone? What if it didn't work out, and I still had to work with Thomas on his book? What if I accidentally made some sort of reference to the magic dimension out of habit, and I didn't have a cover story for it? I didn't see how things could get worse.

Then I heard the revving of a motorcycle engine as it rounded the corner, and they did.

I don't know what was so bad about it; I'd ridden on Sky's levabike about a million times back at Alfea, so the fact that Thomas had one shouldn't have been a problem. (_Besides,_ a small voice in the back of my head added, _wasn't it good that something reminded me of _Sky_ instead of Baltor?_) Maybe it was just the memory, or the fact that it seemed so perfectly like him, but I got the feeling it was going to be a _long_ night.

It wasn't a surprise that he was also dressed impeccably. He was wearing a black button-up shirt and dark jeans and carrying what looked like…

"Did I overdo it?" Thomas asked with his usual smirk, holding out a bright red rose.

I smiled. "Maybe a bit. But it's appreciated nonetheless." I took a whiff, the scent making me think of Flora. "Thanks."

He offered me his elbow, like something out of the Victorian era. "Shall we? Or would you prefer to stand outside all night?"

I didn't fight the urge to roll my eyes, pointedly reaching for the door myself instead of taking his arm. If he was disappointed, he didn't show it, following me into the warmth of the restaurant.

I'd been here once or twice with Anna – mainly to torment Ellis at his workplace – and it was mostly as I remembered, just a step above your average non-fast food restaurant. Skimming over the menu, I was half-tempted to order some of the more expensive items, but changed my mind when I realized that the most expensive thing on the menu was lobster, which I hated. The waitress came by with bread (which I remembered from previous times was incredible), took our drink orders, and then wandered away, but not without flashing a dazzling smile at Thomas.

When she was gone, I took a sip of water, arching one eyebrow. "She was… friendly."

He smirked – _is he capable of making any other expression?_ I wondered. "Is someone _jealous_? And after all you said about this being a business meal…"

I narrowed my eyes. "In your dreams, maybe."

"Whoa, down girl. Remind me to never use sarcasm in your vicinity again." He winked at me, and I couldn't help but smirk.

"Please, I don't think you've gone five minutes without making a joke since I've met you."

"What can I say? I'm a very sarcastic person."

I inclined my head slightly. "I can see that."

"What, no witty repartee? And I was just warming up."

I laughed. "Sorry. You'll just have to save your comebacks for another time."

"You do realize I will hold you to that, right?" He ripped a piece of bread in half and started to butter it. "So what do you think of the book so far?"

The book. Right. The whole reason I was even here tonight in the first place. "I really like it," I said honestly, taking some bread for myself. I'd gotten through two more chapters since agreeing to this dinner, and each one was seemingly better than the one before it. "Honestly, I'm not sure why you need me at all. You're obviously doing well on your own."

Thomas shrugged. "Maybe it's an author thing; always concerned about your work not being good enough."

"Well trust me, that isn't the case. Your stuff is fantastic. I have no idea where anyone could come up with ideas like that."

He shrugged. "It just popped into my head a few years back. And once I started writing it, I just couldn't stop. It's weird, but sometimes I swear it's like I lived through it. Though I suppose all authors say that."

"I suppose. So come on, where's the story going?"

"Oh no, I'm not telling. If you want to find out, you have to keep reading."

I reached out and hit his shoulder playfully. "Aww, come on, where's the fun in that?"

"Look, if you really want to help me, it's the least you can do. Read through the book, get a good feel for the characters. That's what I really need the help with."

"How so? I mean, Valentine seems pretty well characterized already."

"Ah yes, for now. But he's very much a dynamic character, and I want to make sure his change seems natural and believable."

I raised an eyebrow. "You do realize if you put him with Krystal, I won't read the rest of it."

Thomas laughed. "No, no. Not Krystal. But… you'll just have to keep reading."

I was spared from making a sarcastic remark by the return of our waitress, who in her one-minute interaction with us somehow managed to drop two pickup lines and 'drop' her pen, which she proceeded to pick up in what I assumed was supposed to be a sexy fashion. I rolled my eyes, and Thomas almost spit out his water from laughing so hard. However, he did succeed in getting water down the front of his shirt.

"Crap," he muttered, getting to his feet. "How mad do you think they would be if I used the hand dryer on my shirt?"

"Well, we'll find out if the manager asks you to leave."

He narrowed his eyes, but his look was more playful than anything. 'Thanks for the support, darling," he called as headed off towards the restrooms.

"Anytime, sweetheart," I called back with a wave.

"Well I'll be damned."

If I was holding my water glass, I was fairly certain I would've dropped it at the familiar voice. I turned around and found Ellis leaning against a nearby empty table, a smirk on his face that reminded me far too much of Anna. "In the last hour, I've gotten six texts from Anna asking how this 'date' was going. I thought she was drunk again."

I blushed. "It's strictly work-related, Ellis."

"Well then I need to find me a job like that. Don't give me that look, Peters; who is he?"

"…Thomas Crowell. And I'm just looking over his novel to make sure it's good for print. It's no big deal."

Ellis raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Then why are you flirting with him?"

My eyes widened. "I am _not_ flirting!"

"Uh-huh. And I don't have a twin."

"Ellis!"

"I'm just calling it like I see it. I haven't heard of you going on a date since Andy or that ghost boy you met at boarding school. And neither time has it looked like you were having this much fun."

"How long _have_ you been standing there?"

"Long enough." He winked at me. "I won't go into how obvious it is that you like him; I'll let Anna do that when you get home."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you. And by the way, I'm _so_ getting an expensive dessert."

He looked confused for a moment, and then remembered my free birthday dinner. "You're a difficult woman to please, Peters. I'm going to have to pray hard for this guy."

"And get me a gin and tonic. Not the cheap stuff either." Ellis smirked, flipped me off, and went to get the drink.

"I go to the bathroom and you're flirting with the waiter? And here I thought we had something special." Thomas's eyes twinkled mischievously as he slid back into his seat, the water spot on his shirt mostly dry.

I nearly choked on a sip of water, watching how he tried to contain his laughter at my surely ridiculous coughing and sputtering. "Ellis? Ew," I said, when I'd finally managed to regain my composure. "He's like a brother. Except even more annoying, because he's not actually related to me, and therefore has absolutely no sense of familial loyalty when it comes to pissing me off."

Thomas grinned. "I have a sister. Trust me, related or not, no brother feels a sense of remorse messing with his sister. In fact, my parents had to put extra locks on her bedroom door so I couldn't super-glue anything to her desk."

"Are you two close?" I asked. Even if Daphne wasn't completely gone, her occasional spontaneous appearances in spirit form – usually to warn me about some danger, or give advice in a life-or-death situation – were hardly comparable to actually growing up with an older sister. I'd always wondered what that would have been like.

A shadow flitted across his face. "Not so much in the last few years." As curious as I was, I decided not to push the issue. I knew all too well how much it sucked to be forced to talk about family issues.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I finally said.

"Not your fault. Besides, when our book hits the _New York Times_ Bestsellers list, she'll probably come around." He winked, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Our book?"

"But of course. You're pretty much here to help me fix plot issues and the characterization; it's not just _my_ book anymore. Even though my name's the only one on the cover."

"Hmm… can I still get a big thank you in the acknowledgments?"

Thomas laughed. "We'll discuss it."

I smiled a little. How on earth did I ever get it in my head to compare Thomas to Baltor? Sitting here now, it became obvious to me; they wee nothing alike. Thomas was a really sweet and charismatic guy, someone I could really get used to working with.

Maybe calling this a 'first date' wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Anna was sitting on the couch when I got home, a magazine lying across her lap that I knew was only for show. "So?" she asked, with a studied nonchalance. "How was your night?"

"Good," I said lightly, dropping my jacket on the couch. "Making fun of Ellis just wasn't the same without you though."

I saw her eyes flash with impatience, and I bit back a smile. That was obviously not what she'd wanted to hear, and I was just as determined not to give her what she wanted as she was to get it. "Did Thomas like the restaurant?"

"He did." I crossed the hallway to my room. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to call it a night."

I managed to get inside and turn the lock just as she leaped up off the couch and sprinted for my door. "You're going to have to tell me about it sooner or later!" she yelled from the other side of the door.

"Then I choose later!" I called back, sitting down on the bed and starting to take off my boots.

In all honesty, there was nothing I particularly didn't want to tell Anna about tonight. I just didn't have the energy to deal with one of her interrogations right now, not on one of the best nights I'd had in recent history.

After that little bump with his sister, conversation had been all smooth sailing. We'd shared funny stories about coworkers, traded endless sarcastic banter, and I kept trying to get him to tell me who Valentine's love interest was (without success). Everything was just so… _easy_ with him; I never felt like I had to think about what I wanted to say before I said it, the way I sometimes had with Sky.

There was that one moment, when we were saying goodnight, where I swore for a second that he was going to kiss me. And I hadn't been able to decide if I wanted him to or not. But it had all been so quickly, and the next thing I knew he was making a joke and then walking away, that I was half-convinced I'd just imagined it in the first place.

Pushing away the thought, I changed into my favorite pair of cozy plaid pajamas, but then realized I wasn't the slightest bit sleepy. _But the TV, and my laptop, are outside, which means I'd have to go through Anna… crap…_

Then my eyes fell on the slightly battered stack of papers on my nightstand. Thomas had sent me a full version of his most recent draft via email yesterday, but I still had the paper copy of the first five chapters that Gaby had left on my desk. And after all the teasing he'd done tonight, I was even more curious than before to see how this ended up.

Propping up a few pillows against my headboard, I grabbed the pages and opened up to where I'd left off last time. It was in the middle of a battle; this promised to be interesting.

* * *

_Rachel's head hurt._

_ She tried to open her eyes, but each eyelid felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Struggling to see through the fluttering of her eyelashes, she eventually relented and closed her eyes again, the darkness like a soothing balm to her aching mind._

_ Somehow, she knew she was in trouble. She wasn't supposed to be here – wait, where was here? This was not good._

_ Stretching out her consciousness through the rest of her body, she felt with painful clarity every ache and bruise along her limbs, as well as the excruciating sensation in her back that could only mean her wings were damaged. Well, that was very not good. Wherever she was now, she was pretty much stuck there for the time being, until she could muster up the strength to walk back to campus. And judging from the state of her injuries, that might not be for a very long time._

_ Slowly, her addled brain started to piece things together. She remembered walking across the quad with Harper and Nadia, heading to class. Nearly getting electrocuted by a bolt of lightning that seemed to just appear out of nowhere. Seeing Krystal, Maeve, and Audra flying overhead – _how had they escaped Alpha?_ – itching for a fight and not caring how many innocent bystanders they put in dangers. Taking the fight away from school to minimize the damage. Krystal hitting her in the back with a block of ice, sending her tumbling out of the sky and into the forest…_

_ "That's quite a nasty spill you took there."_

_ At the sound of the voice, unfamiliar and decidedly male, Rachel's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her ears. She might be overreacting, but this didn't sound like someone who just wanted to help a poor injured girl. Ignoring the screaming pain of protest in her legs, she got to her feet, fists clenched and sparkling with magic energy._

_ The speaker, leaning against a tree on the opposite side of the clearing in which she'd landed, chuckled. "So jumpy. Has it at all crossed your mind that perhaps I don't want to fight you, Rachel?"_

_ A shiver raced down her spine, and she kept her fists exactly where they were. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"_

_ "You're hardly in a position to be making demands right now, my dear." He started walking towards her, and even as her heart thumped wildly against her chest, she couldn't help take him in. He was tall, with dark brown hair worn long for a guy, wearing a long dark blue coat with a high collar that looked like something out of a period drama. Unconsciously, she took a step backwards, flinching when her ankle turned on a sharp rock; her leg buckled under her and she was back on the ground._

_ He knelt down by her side, and she was too worn out to even think about trying to fight him off. It would've been useless anyway, since she lacked the magic energy necessary to actually be able to do anything to him. Closing her eyes, she braced herself for the worst._

_ Except nothing happened. After a moment, she opened her eyes again to see him staring at her, those eerie light blue eyes of his looking like they could see right through her. "They really did a number on you," he said to himself, and she couldn't help raise an eyebrow._

_ "You didn't answer my question."_

_ "As I said; you really aren't in the position to be asking them." His hand started to glow with a dark purple magic. Rachel flinched, but he only laughed. "And so quick to judge. What _are_ we going to do with you, Rachel?"_

_ "We? How… aah!" She stopped herself as his hand made contact with her swollen ankle, sending a sharp pain shooting through her body. She grabbed the closest thing her hand could reach and squeezed, realizing a moment too late that it was the man's other hand. "What are you…"_

_ "Relax. It's just a healing spell." He moved his hand slowly up her leg, and the sharp pain started to subside. Then he did the same to her other leg, and then her arms. Rachel continued to stare at him, caught off guard by his actions. She caught sight of her reflection in his ice-blue eyes; she looked wonderstruck, her mouth hanging open slightly. Snapping it shut, she hissed in pain when the scratch on her cheek started burning._

_ Slowly, the man held out a finger and ran it across the length of the cut. She felt the wound close up, and his finger lingered on her cheek for a moment. His hand was warm._

_ Finally, a coherent thought wormed its way into her mind. "You said 'we'." The man didn't respond, but suddenly it all started to make sense; how he knew she was here, why he wasn't giving her his name…_

_ Rachel yanked her hand out of his grasp. "You're working for _them_!" she spat, her voice surprisingly strong. The healing magic must've been working better than she thought._

_ If her statement shocked him, he didn't show it. Instead, he only smirked. "I'd like to think along the lines that they're working for me. I suppose it's debatable."_

_ "But then _why_? Why help me if you know how much they hate me?"_

_ "Well _I_ don't know you, now do I?" His smirk widened and he stood up, brushing a few blades of grass off his pants. "Besides, you were quite thoroughly incapacitated. For me to attack you when you stood no chance of defending yourself… where's the fun in that?"_

_ She couldn't help but stare. "Who… who are you?"_

_ "You can call me Valentine."_

_ And when she blinked, he was gone._

_x_

_ "You let her get away!" Krystal railed at him, palms glowing with blue-white energy. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees around her, causing Maeve and Audra to shiver. "That stupid bitch is the reason we were in that hellhole, and you let her go without so much as a scratch! How could you do that?"_

_ "Easy victories bore me," Valentine said simply, disregarding Krystal's fury. "And need I remind you that she's _your_ enemy, not mine? I'd never even met the girl until today. So forgive me for wanting to see what all your whining was about."_

_ "And?" Maeve asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What did you think?"_

_ He considered his word choice carefully. "Not what I'd expected."_

_ Krystal's eyes were still burning with rage. "Alright, so now you've met her. Next time, don't let her get away so easily."_

_ "Careful, Krystal," he said, an edge of steel in his voice like a warning. "That sounded like an order."_

_ She stalked off in a huff, and a moment later the other two scurried after her. Rolling his eyes, he turned his thoughts instead to the afternoon's events._

_ He didn't know what he'd expected out of the infamous Rachel, but whatever it was, it was certainly not the girl he'd encountered. She was nothing like he expected. She was… different._

_ And Valentine had no clue what to make of it._

* * *

I stared at the words on the page, not quite sure whether to believe what I thought I was seeing. _So _Rachel_'s the love interest? Definitely didn't see that one coming._

Not for the first time, I cursed my own carelessness in leaving my laptop in the living room. My interest was peaked to the point where I could easily imagine staying up all night just to finish this thing.

_But at least I have one more chapter with me now,_ I reminded myself. Though it _was_ late, and Anna and I had breakfast plans tomorrow…

Well… just one page couldn't hurt, right?

* * *

**I have to remember to thank my teachers for being so relaxed about using computers in class, otherwise I would never post as often...**

**Review!**

**ember & Authoress**


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

"Why are the wings so big?"

"They're fairies - they're _supposed_ to have big wings."

"And the hair? I mean, it's past their feet."

"What do you have against long hair?"

"I never said I did. And why are the skirts so short? Dear God, woman, you draw for _children_. What kind of message is this?"

I was laughing before I could stop myself. "Thomas! Are you seriously going to sit here and critique my drawings all day?"

"I was sort of planning to," the brunette man responded from where he was hanging upside down off my office couch (don't ask why - I hadn't figured it out myself). He set the drawing down and picked up another one from the coffee table. "Why don't any of these fairies wear pants? Can't we get a tomboyish fairy in here that doesn't wear pink skirts?"

"Okay, that's it." I stood up, crumpling an old memo sheet into a ball and throwing it at his head. "Get out. I have work to do, and you keep distracting me."

He grinned, flipping himself so he was right-side up on the couch, his entire face red from having been upside down. "Can't take the criticism, huh? Typical artist attitude."

"Oh no, I can take criticism, but I don't appreciate having to be your personal Google search." Sitting back down, I picked up a graphite pencil, then put it down again. "How can you get away with being here all the time? Doesn't Gaby ever wonder when you're going to do your _actual_ work?"

He smiled at me innocently. "Well, considering my job is to get my novel ready for publication, and I can't exactly do that when my prettiest editor hasn't even finished _reading_ it, I'd even go so far as to say that this _is_ my job."

I felt my cheeks warm slightly. "Annoying me is your job?" I rolled my eyes, picking up the pencil again and bending my head over the unfinished drawing on my desk, determined to ignore him.

Unfortunately, ignoring Thomas was right up there with achieving world peace and getting Stella to clean her closet - ie, impossible. The springs in the couch squeaked (it was an old couch), and a few seconds later I felt his presence hovering over my shoulder. "What's this one supposed to be?" he asked, pointing to the drawing on my desk.

I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch; you'll smudge it." Sighing, I set down the pencil and leaned back in my chair. "This one takes place on an ocean world. That's why her wings are smaller - don't exactly need big wings underwater - and the skirts look like mermaid tails."

"Reminds me of something from a dream." He sat down on the other end of my desk, and I bit my lip, unsure whether to kick him off or just leave him be.

"Ah yes, your infamous dreams." Deciding to forget about trying to kick him out, I picked up my pencil for the third time and vowed that I wouldn't put it down again until I'd finished more of the picture. "Have any good ones recently?" I sketched gray lines onto the white paper, images appearing slowly under my moving hand.

"Yes. But not story-related." Against my better judgment, I looked up to see that his lips had twisted into a teasing grin, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

I threw a pencil at him, knowing he expected some kind of response, even if I wasn't all that bothered. One thing I'd learned about him in the last few weeks was that he was an incorrigible flirt, but it was entirely harmless. "You are an immature moron."

"Maybe, but I'm the immature moron that's paying for your lunch, so if I were you, I'd play nice. Are we still going to Boulevard?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said, concentrating more intently on getting the waves right than I probably needed to be.

Ever since the night at The Wharf, Thomas and I had gone out for lunches and morning coffees, but nothing else that I felt really counted as a date. But that didn't mean the idea of us dating hadn't crossed my mind. We were getting to know each other pretty well now, and his constant flirting was not helping me think otherwise (nor did Gaby's asking me about it almost every other day). I just wasn't sure if I was really ready for another relationship, despite having ended things with Sky years ago.

He sighed, getting up off my desk. "I should probably let you finish working then," he said in a rare serious tone.

"That would be much appreciated," I answered, not taking my eyes off the drawing.

"Seriously, though. That girl there..." he pointed to the one fully finished character in the scene, her long flowing curls patterned a bit after Layla, "she looks sort of like one of my characters."

I rolled my eyes. "Why does it seem like every character I draw seems to magically look like one of yours?"

He tapped a finger to his chin. "Interesting thought. Maybe you can read my mind."

I briefly thought back to the mind-reading spell Flora and I tried from _Teen Fairy _freshman year, and how disastrous the consequences were. "Please," I smirked. "If I could read your mind, maybe I'd finally understand your point of view on the whole Rachel thing."

His smirk widened. "Here we go again," Thomas muttered under his breath, flopping back onto my couch and raising a pen to his lips to serve as a fake microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the fourteenth installment of 'What the hell is that author thinking and why won't his co-worker leave him alone about it?' Or is it the fifteenth? I've lost count."

"I think it's only the fourteenth."

"Ah. Then by all means, proceed."

"I just don't understand it," I insisted, twirling the pencil absentmindedly between my fingers. "It's just... really?"

He sighed, and I couldn't tell if it was joking or serious. "Yes Bloom, really. What's so bad about it? It's... sort of like a modern day Romeo and Juliet."

"There is nothing even _remotely_ close to Romeo and Juliet in putting Valentine together with Rachel. I mean, I know you said Valentine isn't black and white, but still."

"Haven't you ever heard of 'opposites attract?'"

A snarkier part of my head fought back the urge to tell him that I hadn't just heard of it, I'd _lived_ it. But I held my tongue. "It's just not realistic," I said instead. "If he's working with Krystal, she'd never go for it. And she has a boyfriend. _And,_ even if he somehow managed to convince her, they'd never have any kind of future together." Unbidden, my voice grew softer as I finished, "The only way it could ever end is badly."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "To quote you, you sound awfully invested in this. Don't tell me some bad boy broke your heart." There was a hint of a teasing smile on his lips.

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to start crying or slap him. "Something like that," I said softly, turning back to the drawing.

The room fell into silence. I was focusing far too much on my drawing, and I knew if I kept pressing the page this hard I'd ruin the picture. But at that moment I didn't care.

A hand on my shoulder stopped my hand cold. "Hey," Thomas's voice reached my ears. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No. No, it's not your fault." I set the pencil down with a sigh. "You didn't know. Hell, who am I kidding? No one knew."

Thomas chuckled lightly. "Who has a Romeo and Juliet relationship now?"

"If you call staring at a guy from afar waiting for him to make the first move like in the movies a 'Romeo and Juliet relationship.'" I smiled a little and swiveled in my chair to face him. It may have been the first time I'd ever seen a look of sincerity on his face. "It was stupid, really."

"Nothing's stupid about love. It's only when you start to doubt it that it becomes stupid."

I laughed. "Where'd you get that fortune cookie from, Confucius?"

He chuckled, but the laughter didn't quite seem to reach his eyes. "No fortune cookie," he said quietly. "Just a... personal philosophy."

"Did some girl break your heart?" I raised an eyebrow, realizing that in all the time we'd spent talking, I still knew next to nothing about Thomas's past. Of course, he had to have exes; there was no way a guy who looked like that didn't. I tried to fight the little pang of jealousy at the thought.

"Similar to your story, actually. I must've tried everything, but she just wouldn't think of me that way." Closing his eyes, he shook his head a few times, shaking it off. "It was a long time ago."

Without thinking about it, I reached out and laced my fingers through his, the warm grip of his palm against mine strangely reassuring. "Well, whoever she was, she had to have been a fool to pass you up."

Thomas chuckled, though his voice seemed a few octaves deeper than normal. "Either that or incredibly smart. I've been told I'm a... difficult man to have a relationship with."

"Oh come on. Once you look past the perfectionism, the lame jokes, the desire to talk about your weird dreams every five minutes... the _really_ lame jokes..."

He hit my shoulder playfully. "Yeah, thanks. That's not a total knife in my chest or anything."

I smiled. "Please, you know I'm kidding. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

I looked up to see him staring at me pensively, something flickering just behind his eyes that I couldn't name. My heart skipped a beat. "And you?" he said, voice still lowered and slightly raspy in a way that sent tingles down my spine.

I swallowed hard, trying to clear my head. "What about me?"

"I don't get a backstory on this guy who broke your heart?" He tilted his head to one side, blinking once and giving me a curious look. Whatever had been there before was gone from his eyes, making me wonder for a split second if I had imagined it.

"Well _I_ didn't get a backstory, so it's only fair you don't get one either."

"Ah, come on. Not even a name? You're being cruel." Now he cast his eyes downward, curling his lips into a mock-pout that made me stifle a giggle. I pushed back my chair and got to my feet, intending to go get something to eat - or a cup of coffee, or go to the bathroom; anything, really, as long as it got me out of these four walls of my office, where the air was suddenly starting to feel much too thick. Then I realized he was still holding my hand.

"I'm being _fair_," I insisted, feeling my cheeks flush for reasons I couldn't name. Was it really getting warm in here, or was it just me? "Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do." I waited for him to let go of my hand, secretly not wanting to be the one to let go first.

But he didn't. Instead he focused his gaze exclusively on me, those eyes so much like the other ones I'd known that it made my breath catch. "What kind of things?"

"Just... things," I said, knowing exactly how stupid I sounded. "Important things," I added, attempting to regain a modicum of composure.

"Bloom." I shivered at the way he said my name, my eyes sliding closed of their own accord for a second. When I opened them again, I saw him staring down at me (why did he have to be so tall?); the look from earlier was back, and now I could name it. _Desire_. "What could possibly be so important?" Two of his fingers trailed across the line of my jaw, reaching up to push a piece of hair off my forehead. My skin tingled, stretched tight from overstimulation.

"I..."

And then he kissed me.

It'd been years since I was in a relationship, but I thought I'd at least remember what kisses were supposed to be like. But judging from the way my knees turned to jelly and my head started to spin, it seemed as though my brain had long since forgotten.

Or maybe I just hadn't felt what real love was until now?

Either way, one thing was certain; the moment his lips touched mine I was gone. I reached up and buried my fingers in his hair (partially to keep myself upright), feeling him wrap his arms around my waist and pull me against him. At that moment, a train could've blown through my office and I wouldn't have been the wiser. So long as Thomas didn't let go, I didn't care.

When we finally pulled away from each other, I was out of breath. A feeling of nervousness started to spread in my stomach, and for a moment I questioned what just happened. I glanced at Thomas, and saw his head was down, his hands balled into fists. That nervous feeling increased, and I licked my lips apprehensively. "Thomas, I-"

Before I could finish the sentence, he grabbed my arms and spun me around, pinning me against a wall not two feet from my door. I felt the light switch dig into my back, and a second later the room plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the light that managed to get through the blinds on the window. Odd shadows bounced off the walls, making his eyes look...

I inhaled sharply.

Thomas's gold gaze trailed over me, finally coming to rest on my eyes. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Between the eyes and the sharp pain in my back, it was impossible to speak. "I-I... um..."

The heater in the office kicked in, and the blinds rustled, throwing light again. Thomas chuckled and pulled me back from the wall, at the same time reaching over to turn the lights back on. "Damn. No sarcastic remarks or slapping me across the face. I owe Gaby twenty bucks."

My jaw dropped. "Did you make a _bet_ with our boss on our first kiss?"

"That depends on whether you'll hit me if I say yes."

Relief flooded my veins, and I reached out and hit his shoulder. "Thomas!"

"Hey, you know Gaby! And besides," he reached over and brushed the bangs out of my eyes. "She didn't specifically tell me when I had to kiss you. I had to figure that out on my own."

I smirked lightly. "So, half of the kiss was because you liked me, while the other half was aimed towards winning a bet."

His smile faded. "Bloom, I- "

It was my turn to laugh as I pressed a finger to his lips. "Relax; I'm kidding. But... you really like me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I like you, Bloom. What's there not to like? You're beautiful, smart, you don't hit me when I use our possible love to make bets with our boss..."

I laughed. "Well, don't push your luck on that one."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Wait wait... was that an elaborate 'yes' I just heard? As in 'yes, I'll date you'?"

"If I say yes, will you stop betting with Gaby?"

He smirked and kissed my cheek. "For you, sweetheart, anything."

"Oh really? _Anything_?" I pretended to think this over as I opened the door to my office. "How about getting out and letting me finish my drawings so we can go to lunch?"

Thomas glanced at his watch. "And that's... eleven seconds into our relationship before you kick me out. That's got to be a record."

I started laughing again. "Hey, it's so _we_ can go out on what can now be deemed a 'lunch date.' Now if you'd be so kind..."

"Alright, alright; I can take a hint. Should you be ready to leave by noon?"

"More than likely."

"Great. I'll be back then."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're going to go collect your pool from the office bet about this, aren't you?"

"What? Of course not."

"I want half."

He kissed my other cheek and headed off down the hall. "I'll think about it!"

I stood in the doorway and watched him leave for a second, a small smile playing across my lips despite my best efforts to hide it. _He really is great. Maybe Gaby actually did me a favor, pushing us together like that. ...Not that I'd ever admit it to her, of course._

My heart skipped a beat as I closed my eyes and leaned against the doorframe, replaying that perfect kiss in my mind. I could almost still feel the heat of his hands on my waist, taste the coffee on his tongue...

Then my eyes flew open with a jolt as I was thrown back into the memory of what happened _after_ our lips parted: him freaking out, pushing me against the wall, throwing off the lights; the way his eyes had looked in the darkness...

_You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that._

I shivered instinctively at the thought. There was something in that tone that just didn't sit right with me. While it was certainly possible that Thomas had wanted to kiss me ever since we'd met, I couldn't shake the feeling that the 'how long' was much longer than a few weeks. But how was that possible? And those eyes...

I'd spent weeks trying to convince myself that Thomas had nothing to do with Baltor, and yet at the slightest hint of a connection, all those old doubts came roaring back like a freight train. _It can't be a coincidence. Two guys, with the same sarcastic sense of humor and ability to get a rise out of you in the span of five seconds, not to mention nearly identical eyes in a color not normally found in nature... What are the odds?_

No. I was _not_ going down that road again. Baltor was dead. Period. End of story. And Thomas was here, actually returning my feelings and not twisted up in ten kinds of trouble that would make the possibility of a future a longshot at best. That part of my life was over. Done. No regrets. I had a real future now, one not involving magic and stolen treasures and dark wizards besides what I drew on paper.

Doing my best to shake it off, I headed back inside, intent on finishing my work before lunch. Because for the first time in a _very_ long time, I had a date. A real date.

And it felt really, really good.

* * *

**Happy Holidays!**

**So, Authoress and I have been doing a lot of planning, and we've hopefully got the rest of this bad boy planned out! Based on what we've got done so far, the next chapter _should_ (note: should!) be out on New Years Eve or Day. And until then, we'll both be updating (Authoress with Meet Again, and me with a Winx Club holiday fic and an Elementary one-shot), so get excited!**

**Get into the happy holiday spirit and leave us a review!**

**Much love,**

**ember & Authoress**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Knock knock," I called as I pushed open the door, careful to keep the two coffees I was carrying balanced.

Thomas looked up from the array of papers on his desk, a slightly surprised look on his face. "Hey! I thought you weren't getting back from Gardenia until tomorrow."

"I wasn't. But my parents and I ended up going out for my dad's birthday last night, so we didn't have any other plans. Plus Gaby emailed me about the illustrations for some new book involving rainforests, and Josie for some reason doesn't get along with the author… Long story short, I figured it'd save everyone a whole lot of headache if I just came back early."

He laughed and reached up to take the extra coffee from me. "What would we do without you, darling?"

"Crash and burn." I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "I missed you. Three days without your sarcasm – I almost started making decent jokes again."

"Ah, well we'll cure you of that in no time, love." He smirked, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me onto his lap. I giggled, leaning back against his chest and resting my head in the curve of his shoulder. "I missed you too," he said in a low voice, leaning down to give me a real kiss.

Tingles raced down my spine and I closed my eyes, winding my arms around his neck as I kissed him back. It occurred to me how wildly inappropriate this would look to anyone who might happen to be passing by – did I leave the door open? I think I did – but as quickly as the thought had entered my head, it vanished. Gaby had already given us her seal of approval, and who cared what anyone else thought? For the first time in far too long, I was happy. Shouldn't I be allowed to enjoy it?

I was breathless when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against mine; his eyes were wide and dark with desire, and it made my heart skip a beat. Oh yes, I missed this. "You could've come, you know," I said, straightening up and trying to regain at least a modicum of composure.

He chuckled a little, going back to his desk. "Hey, it was your dad's birthday. The last thing I wanted to do was impose."

"You're my boyfriend. It's your job to impose on family gatherings. Besides, my parents will probably want to meet you at some point – they're thrilled I'm dating again."

They're also thrilled this one isn't a prince, I added in my head, smirking at the thought.

Thomas didn't seem to notice, suddenly very occupied with the papers on his desk. "It's only been a month since we started dating, Bloom. Isn't that a bit too soon to be dragging me to an interrogation at your parents' house? I remember you telling me about how your dad scared the crap out of your first boyfriend… what was his name?"

"Andy," I said, smiling a little at the memory. I'd never seen anyone – especially a boy – look so terrified in his life.

"Uh-huh. And there's that evil twinkle in your eye that makes me feel like I should wait years to meet them, never mind another few months."

I laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. "They aren't that bad."

His lip quirked a little. "I know. I just think it's pretty early to be meeting them is all."

I perched myself on top of his desk, making it nearly impossible for him to try to work around me if he so wanted. "Well, what about your parents? Should I be worried about them?"

I'd kept my tone conversational and a bit playful, to match his own, but when I saw his eyes darken slightly, my stomach rolled over. What did I do? I wondered, fearful I'd hit a nerve without meaning to. Despite our growing closeness in the last month or so, there were still so many things about Thomas that remained a mystery to me.

The second I took note of the dark look in his eyes, it was gone. As quickly as he'd sat down at his desk, Thomas was up again and going to dig through his bookshelves (and several half-packed boxes) for something. "To be honest, I doubt you'll ever meet my parents. They're still back east in New York."

"What do they do?"

His focus was trained intently on a dark green book full of planetary statistics from Spheria (at least, what the statistics were until Darkar destroyed it; how had something like that wound up on Earth anyways?). "My father's an account, and my mom did PR for some local artists before she married him. Nothing very interesting."

"Coming from the daughter of a florist and a firefighter, it sounds pretty interesting."

"The world is full of interesting, Bloom. You just have to know how to look for it."

I tried not to take offense to the somewhat sarcastic bite in his tone. Did he really hate talking about his family that much? Mike, Vanessa, and I had had our ups and downs, but never enough for me to completely loathe talking about them. I bit my lip and watched as Thomas sighed heavily. "Do you know what I did with that leather-bound journal talking about Populous or whatever it was?"

"Popularis," I corrected out of habit. "You stashed in the drawer of the table with the lamp when Gaby was doing office checks…" He was retrieving it before I could even finish the sentence. I sighed, realizing I'd obviously made him upset. "Alright, alright, you win. No more deeply personal family questions."

The hard look on his face softened a bit. "Bloom, I–"

"Don't worry. People bugging you about the family you feel like you don't really know, I get that. I was the adopted kid in school, remember? But… sometimes it does help to talk about it. And I'm speaking from past experience, and not as some shrink getting paid to sort through your head."

He chuckled, but to my surprise it wasn't friendly. "Trust me. I don't think any amount of therapy can fix the bridges I've apparently burned… Do you remember what page had the diagram of the mage circle on it?"

"…Thirty-four," I managed to stutter out, and busied myself with my phone so I could have a moment to think things over.

While I was used to Thomas's bipolar attitude, the flipping between vagueness and bitter sarcasm was not familiar. He couldn't have been mad at me for spending the weekend in Gardenia, and even if he had been it shouldn't have been a big deal since I was back early. And then the way it seemed so easy for him to jump from that to something trivial and totally unrelated… It was more than a little unbalancing, to say the least.

"Your memory comes in astonishingly handy sometimes," I heard him comment idly, and looked up to see him staring at the page he'd wanted. I bit my lip to keep from inadvertently blurting out why I really knew so much about these books of his; my eyes flicked around the room, trying not to look at him for fear that he'd somehow manage to read my thoughts off my face. When I'd finally composed myself, I saw him staring at me intently, the book lying open on the desk. "So. How about we take an early lunch – more like brunch, I suppose – and you can tell me all about your weekend at home?" There was no trace of his earlier bitterness in the bright smile he gave me now.

"Um…" I played with a loose thread on the hem of my top. "You know, I'd love to, but I really should go deal with that rainforest book situation." His face fell, and my stomach dropped. "Some other time," I rushed to add, taking slow, backwards steps towards the doorway. He nodded, but there was still something utterly depressed about the look in his eyes, and so I reached for the one thing I thought might be able to cheer him up. "I might manage to find some time to read some more of your book…"

Despite everything, my lips turned up in a smile as I thought of the last chapter I'd read – or rather, had him read to me, one exceptionally boring rainy day when concentrating on anything seemed completely out of the question. Of course, I'd had to go back and finish said chapter on my own; after only a few pages of listening to Thomas's deep, sexy reading voice, I'd found myself utterly unable to concentrate on the story either…

From the light in his eyes, I could see he was remembering that too, and that gave me the strength to call out a parting, "Catch you later," then disappear out the door and down the hall.

I padded up the flight of stairs to my office, then, alone, closed the door and settled down in my chair, tucking my knees up and spinning around a couple times like I used to do in the one Mike kept by the computer as a little girl. Though I'd told Thomas otherwise, I knew there was no way I could wrap my brain around any kind of work today, not until I'd managed to get my thoughts more settled.

I'd known going into this that Thomas was not an open book of a man, but until now, I'd never cared to know any more than he wanted to tell me. We were two adults starting a new relationship; there were plenty of other things to talk about (or not talk, ahem), without going into every detail about each other's pasts. And certainly I understood the desire for privacy. There was a difference, though, between not wanting to talk about something and getting downright defensive at a random comment.

Catching my hands on the edge of the desk to stop spinning, I slid down in my chair and slipped out of my shoes, resting my feet on the ground. Reaching into my oversize messenger bag, I pulled out my laptop and booted it up, plugging the cord into an outlet under the desk and connecting the wires so it could charge while I used it. At the sight of my screensaver – a picture of the two of us at a bookstore café I loved, smiling and holding up mugs of whipped cream-topped hot chocolate – I grit my teeth and quickly clicked on my Internet browser, obscuring the picture.

There was some truth in what I'd told Thomas before; if I wasn't going to be able to draw, I could at least do some of my other job – reading his novel. After our strange conversation earlier, I wanted desperately to feel like I could understand him, and there was something about reading the words he'd written that was almost like getting a little glimpse into his head; all the things I loved so much about Thomas were clearly visible on the paper (or screen, as it were). If nothing else, it'll take my mind off of things, I thought, pulling up the correct screen and settling in to read for a while.

* * *

_Princess Liana of Gemma really was a beautiful girl. Her looks were envied by almost everyone in the known world – a model-like figure of perfect proportions, long stick-straight blonde hair, deep blue eyes like the sapphires of her home planet. Unfortunately, under that beautiful exterior was a heart made of ice and jealousy. Two years ago, Liana's husband-to-be had left her for another girl. Specifically, the red-haired brat from the other end of the galaxy who in Liana's opinion had an overbite bad enough to rip off the back of a hover-car. She had no idea what Connor had ever seen in Rachel, but at that moment all Liana could see was an opportunity for revenge._

_This was bad news for Rachel, but good news for Valentine._

_"You're sure this will work?" Liana asked, swirling the liquid around in the glass with a critical eye. She'd never seen a potion match the consistency and scent of champagne so well._

_Valentine smirked. "What reason would I have to lie to you, my dear? The spell I've provided you with is one of the best in the universe. One little sip, and your precious Connon won't even remember a girl named Rachel. Or the fact that he was ever in love with her."_

_"I still find it ironic that this spell is the same one from the lost galaxy of Amare, which was destroyed over a decade ago."_

_He merely shrugged, looking through the crowds to make sure no one was looking too closely at him. While the gala was mostly full of young-looking princes and lords who could care less about the unfamiliar man conversing with the so-called Queen of Ice, there were still people in attendance that were more than likely old enough to remember him. "What can I say? I have a fantastic memory."_

_"But can your potion-making skills compare?"_

_"If you feel so strongly, I'm more than willing to take the potion back. I know people who've given me much higher offers for it, and more than that trust my 'potion-making skill', as you call it." He gave an icy smile. "Be careful, your Highness; while I'm a good ally, I make a terrible enemy."_

_"So I've heard," Liana muttered under her breath. Valentine couldn't help but notice she made no move to return the potion. "You've already attacked various planets, including the most prestigious magic school in the galaxy. Tell me, Valentine, why come here? A petty little event with auction items that would barely classify as baubles to you; what lure does a place like this hold?"_

_A flash of red hair caught his eye, and Valentine got a brief glimpse of Rachel, dressed in a dark blue gown that seemed to reflect the night sky. A smirk tugged on his lips. "The opportunity to level the playing field a bit. Now go; you'll only have one chance to give the boy the drink and make him fall in love with you. After that, you can get the delight of watching the girl you've loathed for so long get the boot."_

_"I don't know how to repay you," Liana said softly. Valentine glanced at her out of the corner of his eye; if she didn't have such a deep grudge against Rachel, he had the feeling Liana would be pouring the drink down his throat._

_But he chose to ignore it. Petty attraction was still attraction after all, and the Princess of Gemma could prove to be a valuable piece in his game, assuming she could pull this off correctly._

_"If you really want to repay me, tell the guards not to occupy the gardens for the next few hours. I have a feeling I'll be using the space to meet with a friend of mine. One who may be in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on."_

_x_

_To Rachel, it felt as if the whole world was spinning._

_One minute, she was staring at Connor in what seemed to be a blissful haze as he prepared to announce to his entire kingdom that they were together, and more importantly were planning to keep it that way. But that bliss slowly gave way to confusion as Connor called Liana's name. Confusion turned to anger when she saw the way he stared at the Princess of Gemma – a look she thought had been reserved for her. The anger turned to jealousy when she saw the same look in Liana's eyes, except partially clouded with lust._

_But it had all turned to sadness by the time he leaned in to kiss her, and unable to stomach watching, Rachel made a dash for the rose gardens, needing to be alone._

_How could he? How could he? After everything they'd been through together the last three years, it turned out it was all just some lie? Had Connor ever stopped loving Liana? Had the two of them laughed at all the sappy love notes she'd given him, scoffed at her ideas of 'romantic dates', and prayed that every fight they'd had would be the one to end it all?_

_"Some men these days, huh? Where do they think of these sick and twisted plans?"_

_Rachel jumped; she hadn't been paying much attention to where she was going, so long as she got away from the party. Apparently her feet had taken her to a small garden, enclosed in a tall hedge that drowned out most of the noise from the festivities. Roses popped out of the hedges and bushes, all in varying colors, around two chairs and a table at the center of the enclosed space. And sitting in one of them was the last person she wanted to see._

_"You're hardly one to be talking about sick and twisted, Valentine," Rachel scoffed, feeling her shoulders tense slightly. Instinctively, she took a step backwards, feeling the telltale tingle of magic spring to her fingertips defensively. "What are you doing here? Come to ruin the party? Whatever you've got planned, I won't let you get away with it."_

_He smirked, rising to his feet and training his gaze on her. "Seems the party's already been ruined for you, my dear. Or else why would you be in here?"_

_Her cheeks burned, and she turned her attention just to the side of him, focusing so intently on a cluster of pink roses that she thought her eyes would water. Anything was better than meeting those disconcerting light blue eyes of his, that seemed to be able to look right through her with just a single gaze. "If you think I'm telling you anything, you're out of your mind," she managed finally, through a clenched jaw._

_"Ah, but you don't have to say a word. Your expression tells me everything I need to know." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move towards her, and took a few steps backwards in response. "Shame about your prince, although perhaps it's better to know now the fickleness of his heart. Before it's too late, and you've shackled yourself to someone who could never love you the way you deserve."_

_Rachel's eyebrows arched briefly – how does he know what happened? she wondered – but then she remembered who she was talking to, and let out a small sigh instead. "I just… I don't know where it all went wrong," she said softly, more to herself than anything. "I keep thinking about everything he said, everything I said, everything I did… Why would he go back to her?"_

_"Some things in this world are just unexplainable." At the sound of his voice, much louder than before even if the softness of his words was still present, she looked up to see that the distance between them was almost nonexistent. Startled, she took another step backwards, only to hear the rustle of greenery as her back met a hedge. Her heart skipped a beat; she was trapped._

_But she'd been in this position before, she remembered – stuck, with nowhere to go, at Valentine's mercy – and she'd been fine. Whatever other despicable things he might do, somehow she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. So she had nothing to fear, but that didn't stop her from being afraid._

_Because if he wouldn't hurt her, that then begged the question of why._

_"Still, he continued, idly fingering the petals of a red rose a few centimeters from her shoulder, "there are much better things to waste your time on. Prettier things, too."_

_"Why are you doing this?" she asked before she could stop herself. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she took it as a sign to continue. "I've heard of what you've done. You've terrorized the entire galaxy, and cost millions in damages. You've injured people; even killed some. You're working with Krystal, who I know wants me to take a long walk off a short bridge. So… why not kill me? I've made it clear I won't be of any value to you."_

_He gave her something between a smile and a smirk. "Got a death wish, do we sweetheart? I must admit, I never would've pegged you for the type. Or is that the heartache talking?"_

_Heat flooded Rachel's cheeks. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!" Valentine's eyes danced with something that looked a lot like amusement, and it tied her stomach into knots for reasons she couldn't explain. She forced herself not to give in to her desire to look away, to face him head-on no matter how much it unnerved her to do so. "Is everything just a game to you?" she demanded._

_Her breath caught when his gaze turned serious. "Some things," he said almost reflectively, reaching a hand up towards her face. Rachel flinched, but his touch was surprisingly gentle as he pushed a piece of hair out of her eyes, leaving her skin tingling under his fingertips and her thoughts too chaotic to think of pushing him away. "But not all." She felt like she was moving through fog, as he slowly moved to close the last bit of distance between them…_

_And then, like a splash of cold water, Rachel realized what was about to happen, and tore herself away from the hedge, heart pounding. "What are you doing?"_

_For the briefest moment it looked as though she'd slapped him. Rachel didn't know what to make of it. Surely, he didn't really want to kiss her?_

_But of course, she didn't have time to wonder, because the next moment that cool demeanor was back and he was smirking. "Isn't it obvious? I know your prince has the brains of a brick wall, but I assumed he had enough common sense to know what a kiss was."_

_She shook her head, almost unable to believe what she was hearing. Tears were stinging at the back of her eyes again, but this time she didn't know why. "You lied to me. Everything is just a game to you. You toy with words, like you do people until you get what you want from them. And I'm here to tell you it won't work on me."_

_The smirk melted off his face, leaving behind something that looked very close to anger. "Is that what you think? That I'm toying with your feelings for my own personal gain?"_

_"Why else would you?" The words were out of her mouth before she could think about them, and this time it was harder for Valentine to hide the look on his face. But Rachel pressed on – it was a game. It had to be. "You think you can fool me; well, you're wrong. I know you can't possibly care about anyone but yourself–"_

_"Because you know me so well." Valentine scoffed. "You know the stories, the rumors and fearful whispers that take on lives of their own and become good as gold, regardless of how they stretch the truth into something virtually unrecognizable. Don't presume that's the same thing, darling. Genuine feelings are hard to come by, and I would never act on them for the sake of a better playing field."_

_Her eyes narrowed. "You're right about that. If you really cared about me, you would stop causing pain to the world."_

_Valentine glared at her, and Rachel saw no difference between his eyes and ice. "The beast is incapable of multiple emotions, hmm?"_

_Rachel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It shouldn't be possible. It wasn't possible. "We could never be anything more than enemies. You know that."_

_"Why?" he asked, in that maddeningly casual tone. "Says who? You know, Rachel, it's a very bad habit to fall prey to, letting the world dictate your desires."_

_"So I should just be like you, then? Do whatever I want, however I want, with no regard for whom I might hurt in the process?"_

_"That sounds to me, dear girl, like exactly what your prince just did to you." The mention of Connor was like an electric shock, and Rachel flinched._

_"I love Connor," she said, voice trembling slightly at the memory of him in Liana's arms just moments earlier. "And even if he doesn't feel the same, there is no way I could ever love you. You're wasting your time if you think otherwise."_

_A spark lit behind Valentine's eyes, and he took a step towards her, closing some of the distance that had been there since she'd yanked herself away from his almost kiss. "Do you know why Alpha is the worst form of punishment in the magical dimension?" His voice was low and full of a steely sort of determination, the same thing that was oh so visible in those expressive eyes of his. "It's not the burning sun or the desert sandstorms that do you in; it's the skylight. Looking up every day to see freedom so close, but just so far out of reach is what twists people's minds to madness, because hope is the most powerful poison of all. I spent seventeen years in that hellhole, and I survived. And what it taught me was the virtue of patience. So you can deny me all you want, but I don't give up easily."_

_"Valentine–" She didn't have time to argue as the wind picked up and blew through the enclosed area, stirring up leaves and dirt into what seemed like a miniature cyclone. Rachel turned and covered her eyes, almost tasting the magic in the air._

_When the wind died down and she opened her eyes again, she wasn't surprised to find herself alone in the garden._

_She sighed and brushed the grass blades from her dress. As mysterious as Valentine had been to her before, he was now a complete puzzle. She didn't know if he had really meant any of what he said – that he cared about her, that he would prove it to her – or if it was all just a cleverly executed plan to weaken her. Krystal had always been good at toying with her emotions, through the use of inanimate objects or real people._

_One thing was for certain – she wouldn't get any answers tonight. Rachel turned to leave, ready to find the rest of the girls, go back to their hotel, and sleep until she could be mistaken for a coma patient. But as she swiveled her head, something caught her eye on the table._

_It was a single rose, obviously plucked from somewhere in the alcove. Fully bloomed, it was a bright orange color, just able to stand out under the now dark sky._

_Rachel picked it up cautiously and brought it to her nose to take in the scent. She vaguely remembered her roommate Lorelei trying to teach her about the meanings of different colored roses. She'd been surprised to learn that orange roses, sometimes associated with fascination and enthusiasm, more commonly stood for desire._

_There was only one bush of orange roses, as opposed to the dozens of red ones throughout the garden. More so, the bush was a good distance from the table, where she likely would've been when Valentine tried to kiss her. It'd been left there on purpose, and it'd been left for her._

_No chance at a romance, Rachel had said. So why did she feel like she'd just been in a lover's quarrel?_

* * *

My eyes were wide by the time I made it to the bottom of the last page. But instead of scrolling downwards to see what happened next – not that my curiosity wasn't extremely peaked, mind you – I sat back in my chair, my brain working overtime to process everything.

Seventeen years in prison… a boyfriend with a princess ex-fiance… a party with a love potion… What I'd been able to dismiss as coincidences on their own were starting to look like anything but, all added up together like this. There was no denying it anymore: Thomas's story was an awful lot like my junior year.

I tried to think of a logical explanation for why it was so similar, but my brain couldn't come up with any. The closest one was the idea that one of the many references books on Thomas's shelf was a history one, depicting the tales of the Winx Club. But the books were far too old; and even if they weren't, no historian would focus so much on the details outside of the battles we'd fought.

Out of everything I'd just read, the only part that wasn't familiar (besides the part in the garden, which I was leaving alone for the sake of my sanity) was about how Liana (Diaspro?) got the love potion from Valentine. From what I'd heard, Diaspro's full testimony about her encounter with Baltor was listed in the archives at the Magix Library, but until now I'd never had a reason to go and look through it. But if by some insane chance her story matched Thomas's, that would mean his entire novel was somehow an exact replica of my last year at Alfea.

That would mean Rachel was me. And Valentine…

And there was something else I had to do in that library, I decided. Whether or not the stories lined up, this whole thing was really pushing my patience with Thomas's closed-book policy. I was rapidly getting sick of having him be such an enigma to me. If he wouldn't tell me about himself, then I'd just have to find someone who would. But to do that, I needed some magic that I definitely couldn't do myself. Looked like a trip to Magix – the one thing I'd sworn I'd never do – would have to be in order.

Exhaling, I reached into the side pocket of my bag for my phone and brought up my contacts list, looking for the number I'd dutifully programmed in, but never expected I would have to use. As the ringing echoed in my ear, I mentally prepared myself for what I was going to have to put up with – both on this phone call and the trip itself. It's worth it, to get some answers, I told myself.

There was a sort of clicking sound as the person on the other end picked up. "'Lo?" he said, sounding like I'd woken him up.

I rolled my eyes, having forgotten about the time difference. Oh well. "Good morning to you too, Riven. Now get your lazy ass out of bed. I need your help with something…"

* * *

**It's (almost) 2013!**

**As promised, we've got a brand new chapter here for you guys! Authoress and I were super excited to write this chapter, and we're even more excited for the chapters to come! Hopefully this has given you some clues to what's happening next, and where our favorite villain is...**

**Thanks to everyone whose sticking around and reading and reviewing - we always appreciate the feedback! And if you haven't been reviewing lately, make it your New Year's resolution and drop a line below!**

**Here's to another awesome year!**

**ember & Authoress**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I gotta say, I never thought I'd live to see the day you came back to Magix."

I rolled my eyes and continued to sip my coffee. Snow was falling lightly (not a rare occurrence for Magix in late January), so the streets were mostly devoid of people, probably opting for a teleportation spell so they wouldn't have to be outside for too long. I desperately wished I could be one of them; being in Southern California for the last few years, I hadn't been exposed to snow of any amount. Even with my dark blue jacket and gloves, I felt like an ice pop.

Riven, of course, seemed completely oblivious to the cold. His gloveless hand gripped his own coffee cup with no problem, and there was a strip of bare skin between the end of his jeans and his sneakers constantly getting battered with snow. It made me colder just looking at it.

"So," he continued, "do I finally get the inside scoop on whatever's driving you out of your mind? First Baltor's old death certificate, and now we're going to look through the old files on the damage he did to the dimension? C'mon, Bloom, the investigators themselves weren't as curious about all this as you are - what has you paranoid?"

"I'm not paranoid. I just need to get access to some files and spells that aren't available on Earth."

"But why all of the old files on Baltor? The man's dead."

"I know he is!" I snapped, my tone a bit colder than I'd meant. Riven raised an eyebrow and I took a deep breath. "Look, there's just some stuff going on back on Earth, and even though it should be impossible, if by some crazy twist of fate it's what I think... I don't know. It'll mean something, but I just don't know what."

"Our lives seem to run on the impossible," Riven muttered. He paused for a moment, then turned to look at me. "Would this be a good or bad something?"

I gave a small laugh. "It could range from extreme coincidence to telekinesis for all I know. But what I do know is that the resources in the Magix Library should help me understand it more than I do now."

"Speaking of things I don't understand," he said as we rounded the corner of the street. "Do you care to explain to me what's with your newfound coffee obsession? I mean I know it's been a while since you had a magic espresso shot, but did you really need to get two coffees?"

I smirked and glanced at the other cup in my hand. "Oh, it's not for me."

Riven gave me his classic 'yeah, right' smile. "Then who-"

"Bloom!"

Riven stopped smiling. I started.

The woman sitting on the front steps of the Magix Library was almost unrecognizable. Baggy, tomboy clothes had been replaced by a long, deep purple fitted jacket with gold embroidery on the bottom, black leggings, and brown ankle boots. She had on eyeliner and red lipstick, and her fingernails had been painted a purple color to match her jacket. In fact, the only thing that reminded me of the old Musa was the fact that her hair was short again, barely brushing her shoulders.

That, and the look on her face when she saw Riven.

"What is he doing here?" Musa asked. She reached to take her coffee from my hand, watching Riven as though he were a wild animal ready to pounce.

"You invited her?" Riven said at the same time, his neutral face now looking annoyed.

Musa's eyes narrowed. "I'm one of her best friends. What's your excuse; finally hoping to make a move after all these years?"

"For your information, Bloom and I have been talking on and off for the last few months. But don't worry; now that you're here, you can consider me gone."

"Both of you stop it!" I yelled. I used my now free hand to grab Riven's wrist, keeping him in place. "I asked both of you to come because I need both your guys' help! But if you both keep acting like ten year olds, we won't be able to accomplish anything."

"You could've asked someone else!" Musa and Riven both said at the same time. They glanced at each other in momentary shock, which turned to distaste when they remembered they weren't supposed to be getting along.

I sighed. "No, I couldn't have. Since he fought with us in the battle against Baltor, Riven's one of the only people who can get the files I need in the archive without raising suspicion. And while he gets it, Musa and I will be in the spells section, looking for a locator."

"You need two people to find a locator spell?" Riven's look was withering, and Musa crossed her arms over her chest.

"Look, if Bloom needs both of our help, I think the least we can do is try to give it to her. Unless you're that bitter that you really can't stand being in the same enormous building as me for a couple of hours?" She stared him down pointedly, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, even trying to make peace she has to make sure that she's the winner - the 'bigger person' putting it all behind her to help me. Why did I ever think this was a good idea?

But there'd be time to work on my secret agenda later. "If either one of you changes your mind, you can leave," I said. "But I need you both. And it's freezing out here, so I'm going inside." I turned on my heel and started walking up the steps without looking to see who was following me.

In the foyer of the library, I took off my gloves and stuffed them in my pockets, unable to resist staring in awe at the sheer size of this place. I'd been gone so long, I'd forgotten how magic can be used to make some pretty spectacular feats of architecture. A slight pang of sadness hit me in the stomach without warning, and I frowned. Everything about today had been like that - wonderful and painful at the same time.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and turned around to see Musa and Riven behind me, standing a good distance apart from each other. "We're in," he said.

I smiled, then turned to Riven and explained again which testimony files I wanted. After giving me a strange look at my request, he shrugged and headed off down the right-hand hallway, disappearing from sight.

As soon as he was gone, Musa linked her arm through mine, looking a lot happier now, as if some bad smell had just been aired out from the room. "So why do you need a locator spell?" she asked me, as we headed in the other direction, towards the spell archives.

I bit my bottom lip. "It's... a long story," I said.

She stopped short in the middle of the hallway, looking me in the eye. "Bloom. I was overjoyed to hear that you were coming back, and you know I'll always help you with whatever you need, but I think I deserve an explanation. Don't you?" I sighed, because she was right, of course.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to figure out the best way to explain this. "There's this guy, back on Earth, and..."

Of course, I should've known better than to start like that. "Are you dating someone?" she all but shrieked. A few passersby glared at her, and she grinned sheepishly for a moment, apparently having forgotten we were in a library. Embarrassed, I tugged on her arm and started walking again.

"Yes," I said finally, when we were a good distance away and people weren't giving us funny looks anymore. "I guess you could say I am."

"Okay, I need details, pronto." We stepped into a wide, well-lit chamber practically overflowing with books; except for the librarian, tucked away behind a desk in the back corner, it was all but deserted.

We started to work on the shelves, and I began to explain the new great mystery in my life. "Well, he moved to California from New York, and we met when he started working at my publishing house. He's an author... we've been dating for a month now..."

Musa smirked. "What, I don't even get a name?"

I bit back a smile. "His name is Thomas. Thomas Crowell."

"I suppose a picture would be too much to ask for?" Laughing, I dug my phone out of my pocket and clicked a few buttons, pulling up the picture of the two of us at the cafe that was my screensaver. "Ooh, cute," she said, her entire face lighting up with the intensity of her grin. She was still smiling as she handed me back my phone. "I approve."

"Do you really?" I turned my back to her slightly, intently examining the spine of a book to avoid meeting her eyes. "I mean... I don't know why I just said that.

I've been feeling weird all day, ever since I set foot past the barrier. Being back here... it's a lot of memories, good and bad. And I just don't know how to feel about everything anymore." I sighed. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"I get it," she said. Her voice was softer, more subdued, and even though I wasn't looking at her I knew the wide smile had disappeared from her face. "But people change, B. High school's over. We grew up. Magix isn't home anymore." I flinched when I realized how close this topic must've cut for her too - especially on top of seeing Riven again. For the first time, I started to wonder if maybe I'd been wrong in trying to push them back together.

Pulling down another book from the shelf and flipping through it, I tried to change the subject. "Anyway, when I first met Thomas, I struggled with my attraction for a while. Partly because my boss kept trying to push us together - you'd like her, I think - but also because it just felt weird, dating someone else. For the longest time, I thought I would be the Queen of Eraklyon some day. And it's not that I regret any of the decisions I made, but... I don't know. If I couldn't make a relationship that lasted three years and survived multiple disasters work out, why would something new have any better chance?"

"I don't think the problem there was with you, sweetie," she said definitively, sounding much more like herself again. "If what you had with Sky was really real, he wouldn't have moved on so quickly." She rolled her eyes. "For the life of me, I'll never understand what he sees in Diaspro. She's all looks and no substance."

I tensed, the mention of the princess of Isis bringing my thoughts back to the other reason I was here. Stop thinking about that, I told myself. Riven's getting the testimony now. All you can do is wait and see.

"I mean no disrespect to the future king of Eraklyon, but something about the two of you never quite sat right with me." I blinked a couple times, realizing Musa had kept going while I'd tuned out. "He's like the stereotypical Prince Charming, the white knight dashing in to save the damsel in distress. Didn't you say that's how you met, even - when he and the other guys saved you from that troll the Trix sicced on you in Gardenia?" I giggled at the memory. "He's a good guy, and a great friend, but you're not the kind of girl who needs someone to rescue her all the time. You deserve someone who'll treat you like an equal."

My mouth was hanging open slightly, and I quickly snapped it closed before she noticed. How had she figured all this out, when I hadn't even been able to diagnose why Sky and I hadn't worked out? It was so strange, hearing her words and feeling in my bones that they were true, even if I'd never thought of it that way before.

"I don't know any more about this guy than his name and what he looks like, but you sound happy, Bloom. And if he makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

I smiled softly, turning to face her for the first time since showing her Thomas's picture. "Thanks, Musa. That means a lot."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she clucked her tongue. "But you're not getting off that easy, though. Obviously everything's not rainbows and roses, or you wouldn't need a spell from the magic archives. Do you think he's cheating on you? Because if so, we may as well stop looking through these books and you can take me back to Earth. I'll knock some sense into him."

We both started laughing until the librarian glared at us. I'd missed Musa more than I'd realized. "Trust me, I'd knock his senseless self all the way to Solaria if that was the case."

"So if that's not it, then..."

I sighed. "Well... on top of the thing Riven's getting for me-" I noticed she didn't flinch at Riven's name this time, a positive sign "I think there's something that happened between him and his family. He hates talking about them, Musa, and I mean hates. He tenses up and changes the subject if I even ask about something as simple as hair color."

She seemed to follow my motive. "You're going to use this to track down his family and try to talk to them, aren't you?"

"He mentioned having a sister, but not where she lived... what?"

Musa bit her lip. "Nothing, nothing. Just... be careful, okay? I know what it's like when you don't want to talk about your family and people keep asking. It's painful, to say the least. There may be a really good reason he doesn't want you to know about his past, and you should respect it."

A small knot formed in my stomach. Was it bad I hadn't really thought about it that way?

"But," she continued, pulling another book from the shelf and blowing off the thin layer of dust on it, "your instincts have always been better about this stuff than the rest of us. Just be careful when you talk to them... here, this looks like the right spell."

Musa passed me the book, already open to the correct page, and I stared down at it. Even though I'd used only the most minimal of magic the last few years, it looked simple enough for me to perform. My eyes scanned across the page, taking in the words, when suddenly something caught my attention. "Shit," I swore, earning me a serious death glare from the librarian in the corner.

"What is it?" Musa asked, bending her head over the page.

I bit my lip. "I don't know her name." I stared down at the blank line in the incantation where the person's name was supposed to go, the empty space seeming to taunt me.

She inhaled sharply. "Yeah, without that you're pretty screwed." As I closed the book with a sigh, she ventured, "Maybe this is a sign, you know? Maybe you should just take what you needed from the archives and go?"

I leaned against the shelves, considering her words. She was probably right, but I hated the thought of having come so far only to give up now. And even though

I knew the truth of what she'd said about family secrets, I was still dying to know what Thomas was hiding under that cocky, sarcastic exterior.

"Excuse me." I looked up to see the silver-haired librarian at my elbow, looking at us with what could kindly be called an expression of displeasure. "I couldn't help overhear you're looking for something? Perhaps I can be of assistance."

Musa's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. "Why would you, who've given us nothing but dirty looks since we got here, want to help us?"

"It's my job, dearie." I bit my tongue to keep from laughing at the edge to his voice, like he was trying to be sarcastic but had forgotten how. Personally, I'd been wondering the same thing - although I'd have never had the guts to ask it out loud - but there was also a part of me that didn't want to turn him away if he could be useful. "And if nothing else, I can assume you'll believe me when I say that I have a vested interest in getting the two of you out of here as soon as possible." Musa's jaw dropped, and I could see her winding up for another shot at him, but he cut her off, turning to me. "So? What do you need, young lady?"

"Well, you see, I'm trying to locate someone... but the thing is, I don't know her name." I averted my gaze, sure his reaction wouldn't be favorable.

Of course, I was correct. "One woman - a nameless woman - in the whole of the universe? You'd have better luck looking for a needle in a pile of all the hay in the world." He started to snicker, but a glare from Musa shut him up. "Right then," he continued, "do you have anything at all to go off of? Anything at all?"

"I know who her brother is," I offered weakly.

His eyes lit up. "Well why didn't you say so sooner? Finding someone's sister is much easier." Immediately, he turned on his heel and headed off down the rows of shelves, deeper into the room. "Well?" his voice called out from quite a bit further away, carrying through the silence of the room. "Are you girls coming or not?"

Looking at Musa, I shrugged, then headed after him, hearing her sigh and then follow on my heels. The path he took wound through countless shelves stacked with more books than I had known existed, until finally it emptied out into a slight clearing, surrounded on all sides by books. In the center of the clearing was a slightly raised podium with something tall and gold spiraling out of the center, like an enormous, twisting piece of DNA.

"What is that?" Musa gaped from behind me.

The old librarian, standing on the podium, smiled smugly. "This, dearie, is called a person-finder. Simply enter a name and it can give you information about any person in the known universe; location, date of birth, all kinds of pertinent info - including any siblings. You, come here." He beckoned me towards the podium, and slowly, I stepped forward. "Put in your young man's name, and then we'll find his sister."

"Put it in where?" As soon as my hands touched the podium, the golden surface twisted itself to form something like a keyboard, as if it were fluid and pliable as dough. Shocked, I pulled my hand back, but the librarian just chuckled.

"Go on, then." Carefully, I picked out the letters to write THOMAS CROWELL, which hung in glowing blue letters right above the newly formed keyboard. When the last letter had been entered, I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen.

For a moment, there was nothing, and I started to wonder if the old geezer had just tricked us to get us to leave already. Then slowly, the double helix started to twist, the upper part seeming to disappear into the ceiling as more rose from the ground to take its place. "Whoa," I said, captivated by what was happening in front of me. I'd seen some pretty incredible things before, but living on Earth for the past few years must have desensitized me or something. But when I stole a glance backwards, I noticed Musa was staring in awe too, so maybe it wasn't just me...

"Pretty cool, huh?" There was a slight whirring noise as the thing did its work, but I could still hear the old librarian. "Been working here almost my entire life, and I've never seen anyone who didn't react like that to this thing. It's something special."

"You can say that again," I murmured under my breath, watching as one of the links glowed with a faint blue light, and the movement abruptly stopped; then a shimmering blue screen of the same kind of light replaced his name, words scrawling themselves across it as fast as the eye could see. I stepped forward to read, squinting slightly.

"Thomas Crowell," I read. "Current location: Santa Anna CA, United States, Earth. Born November 16th 1985, to Robert and Laura Crowell; younger brother of Rebecca Crowell..." It went on, but I stopped reading, a triumphant smile spreading across my lips. "Yes! I have a name!"

"Wonderful," the librarian said. "Now just type it in, dearie..." I was already pushing the buttons before he finished his sentence. This time the double helix twisted the other way, and the lag time was much shorter.

_Rebecca Brown, nee Crowell. Current location: Westchester NY, United States, Earth._

"Where's that?" Musa said, coming up from behind and startling me a bit with her sudden proximity.

"It's a county in New York; close to Manhattan if I remember correctly. My roommate and her brother lived there for a little while..." I turned to the librarian.

"Can this thing give me an address?"

The man nodded. "I can print the results back at the librarian's desk, if you'd like."

I nodded and stepped away from the keyboard. "That'd be great. Thank you."

"Anything for the sake of getting my peaceful afternoon back." The man smirked, and Musa looked ready to strangle him.

After typing a few commands into the finder, we made our way back to the front room, finding it in pretty much the same state as when we'd been led through the bookshelves. There was, however, one exception.

Riven sat at one of the tables, his feet resting on the wooden surface and a slightly thick file near them. He looked bored until we came around the corner, and then his expression turned to one of slight annoyance. "Took you both long enough. I've been here for at least fifteen minutes."

"Lighten up, Riv," Musa said. Her tone was still cool, but not as bad as it'd been earlier. "We were finding our information. Did you find yours?"

"Oh no, I just gave up and grabbed a random file off a shelf in my never ending quest to impress you." He smirked, and Musa looked annoyed. "Yes, I found the file. Took a little while, though. Eraklyon likes to pretend it has a perfect record; anytime something goes wrong on the planet, the records of the event are withheld on a need-to-know basis. But luckily, Diaspro isn't a citizen of Eraklyon, so her files are on public record." He held the folder out to me. "They wouldn't let me take the actual file, so I made you a photocopy. Now you can curl up with a mug of hot cocoa and read all about how Baltor helped Diaspro make Sky forget about you. Whatever gives you your kicks."

I rolled my eyes but took the file from his hand, absently flipping through it. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"So, now what?" Musa asked. "Do you need help looking through the information?"

"No, no... there isn't much here, and it's nothing you haven't heard before. I don't want to bore you."

"Bore us?" Riven laughed coldly. "I knew it. You've got what you wanted, we don't know enough to tell anyone, so you're just going to up and leave. Again."

My jaw dropped. "Oh, come on! That's not true and you know it, Riven."

"Then why do you need the files if they're, and I quote, 'nothing you haven't heard before?'"

"It's... complicated."

He gave a half angry sigh, half chuckle (Stella had dubbed the action 'The Riven' sophomore year). "Of course it is. Nice to see you're still so willing to trust us.

Best friends forever!"

Before I could start yelling at him (which considering we were in the middle of a library, would not have ended well for anyone), my phone buzzed in my pocket. I kept glaring at him, only stopping to read my new message. "...That's my roommate. She's wondering why I took off so early without explaining. I should go talk to her before she calls the police on me."

"Right. How convenient."

"Riven -"

He held up a hand. "I know, I know; you'll tell us when you figure it out. Just... go. See you later, maybe."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I glanced over at Musa, desperate for an ally in this, but to my surprise all she offered was a shrug. "He sort of has a point, Bloom. I trust your judgment and all, but... you won't trust us. After everything we've been through."

To say the comment stung was an understatement. "I just... don't know how to go about things right now. But when I find out, you both will be the first to know. I promise."

"I know." Her voice sounded doubtful.

There wasn't anything else to say, so I grabbed the files and headed for the door. I glanced back over my shoulder, expecting to see a violet gaze staring me down. But instead, to my absolute shock, I found his gaze on Musa. The two were facing each other and talking in whispers. I stopped and waited for a moment, but neither of them looked my way. To a person walking into the room, it wouldn't have looked like the three of us even knew each other.

It also wouldn't have looked like a mere hour ago, they wanted to tear each other limb from limb.

I sighed inwardly and started for the door again. If mutual annoyance towards me was the thing that got Musa and Riven back together, I was never going to hear the end of it.

When I made it back to California, Anna was waiting and would not allow me to push her off. It wasn't until several hours later, after a dinner that involved more question-answering than eating on my part, that I finally got some time alone to look at the files. (Thank God there was a Lost marathon on tonight, or I suspected Anna's interrogation would've continued.)

I was physically and mentally exhausted, both from the time difference and the day's events, but there was no way I was going to be able to fall asleep knowing the information I needed was just an arm's length away. So fighting the burning behind my eyeballs, I piled up my pillows against the headboard, propped the file against my knees, and opened it up.

Riven had been a little overzealous with the copying, I realized, as I started to flip through the pages. He'd given me the entire record of Diaspro's trial, when I really only needed the one thing. My eyelids started to droop a bit as I kept flipping, until finally a name seemed to scream out at me from the middle of one page. Exhaustion evaporating like spilled water on the pavement in the summer, I sat up straighter and began to read.

* * *

_And then, it was like I blinked and he was standing there. He was in the reflection of the mirror, but he wasn't behind me. I'd only seen pictures, but I knew it was him. Baltor._

_I was terrified, and I backed away from the mirror. I yelled at him and asked him what doing there, and he told me he was there to help me get what I wanted. He started stepping out of the mirror, and I threatened to call the guards on him._

_Before I could call for the guards, though, he asked me how I would get rid of Bloom without him. I was shocked; I didn't know he even knew who Bloom was. Then, he raised his hand, and this dark red bottle materialized in it. He said, "Here, this will make all your dreams come true." I knew it was a love potion; that was the only thing he could've offered me that I wanted. I don't know how he knew about the past Sky and I had, but he knew... he knew I wanted it back._

_It was a moment of weakness. Maybe he already had me under his spell by then. But... I agreed to do it. I put the potion in Sky's drink._

* * *

My hands were shaking so bad, I had to set the files down on the floor by my bed. Thomas might have changed the setting and expanded the conversation, but in essence, this was just like what had happened in his book.

The question now was, how? And perhaps also, why?

How did he know about all of this - because it at this point, there was too much for this to just be a coincidence. Why had he chosen to write it as a book? And maybe most importantly, if somehow this was what I thought - despite the complete impossibility of it ever happening - what did that mean about the whole Valentine-and-Rachel thing?

That last one made me shiver, and I tried not to think about it.

Too shaken up to bother with such mundane things as brushing teeth or changing into pajamas, I turned off the little lamp on the side table and snuggled under the covers, trying to relax enough to fall asleep. But my thoughts were too chaotic to even entertain the idea.

I thought about the other piece of paper I'd taken back from Magix with me, the name and address that felt burned into my brain. I'd been going back and forth about using that information since before I even got it, after talking with Musa, but now it seemed I had no choice. There was no way I could just let this go now. I needed answers.

Looks like I'll be heading up to New York for the weekend... Great. More snow.

* * *

**What? It hasn't even been two weeks and we're getting an update? What kind of 2013 is this?**

**Yes, it's very surprising. Authoress and I have been on sort of a writing kick lately, which is giving us a huge advance on the story. We're hoping to get our big reveal chapter (about 2 chapters away) out on Valentine's Day. So cross your fingers and wish us luck!**

**Also, my computer decided to annoy me and turn this chapter into a big chunk of text. If some of the sentences still aren't separated or you notice any errors, don't hesitate to let me know!**

**Don't forget to drop a line with a review on your way out!**

**~ember & Authoress**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Is it just me, or is Gaby acting strange?" Thomas asked, walking into the break room with an empty coffee cup in his hands.

I glanced up from my breakfast - a blueberry muffin out of a basket someone had brought in yesterday. "Define acting strange."

"The fact she's cheery at seven in the morning on a Wednesday. Usually she stays in her office until at least eleven, but she's going around like the freaking Energizer Bunny. And I know for a fact she hasn't touched the coffee machine... speaking of which, do you want a cup?"

I nodded. "Thanks. I did notice on the bulletin board there's a mysterious announcement that's supposed to take place sometime today. Maybe it has something to do with that?"

Thomas chuckled. "A mysterious announcement from Gaby sounds terrifying."

I shrugged. "I'm sure it won't be too bad; the last one was just about going to some writer's convention in Santa Barbara. This probably is too. Trust me, there are much bigger things to worry about when it comes to Gaby."

There wasn't a response, but a moment later Thomas pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table, sliding my coffee to me. His face looked concerned. "Did... did I do something?"

"What are you talking about?" Under the table, I fiddled with the bracelets I was wearing.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know I wasn't fair to shut you out earlier. But I've been making an effort since then, and you've barely spoken two sentences to me. What's up?"

I bit my lip; he definitely wasn't wrong. Ever since I went through the records with Riven and Musa in Magix, I'd tried to distance myself from Thomas so I could try and work things out. But that was proving to be a real problem, especially since the further I went in his book the more similarities stood out to me.

There was also the issue of Thomas's sister. When I told Anna - aka the girl who knows no boundaries - about what I'd uncovered on Rebecca, she'd all but booked me a plane ticket back east. If Thomas wasn't giving me answers, Anna had argued, Rebecca was the next best option (never mind that I'd probably give the poor woman the shock of her life, showing up unannounced like that). But I didn't have that same lack of hesitation at the idea. I already felt awful about my assumptions regarding the novel, and if he found out about them and a mysterious visit to his sister on the other end of the country... it would probably be the nail in my coffin.

The right thing to do, obviously, would be to tear up the paper with her address and forget about the whole thing. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I should just suck it up and admit that I'd gone behind Thomas's back; 'honesty is the best policy' and all (even if I'd have to weave some elaborate lie to cover up the magical parts). I wasn't a teenager anymore - I couldn't do stupid things and rely on sheer luck and willpower to get me through unscathed. Telling Thomas would be the mature, adult thing to do. But every fiber of my being seemed to revolt whenever I thought of the idea.

I was happy with Thomas - happier than I'd been in a really long time - and even with my fervent desire for answers, I didn't think I was ready to lose that. And I couldn't shake the feeling that that was exactly what would happen if he found out what I'd done.

"Bloom?"

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "There's nothing wrong. I've just got a lot on my mind."

He raised an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," I insisted, forcing a smile. "It's just been a crazy week, is all. I was with some old friends from high school on Sunday, and we... sort of got into a fight. Nothing major, but it's been on my mind the last few days. It has nothing to do with you."

(_When did you get so good at lying?_ a voice in the back of my head asked. I told it to shut up.)

Thomas nodded and reached out to take my hand. "Alright. I'm sorry about your friends. They're idiots if they stay mad at you, you know..."

He kept talking, but I stopped paying attention when I caught sight of something. I'd never noticed it before, but with it being winter I'd never seen Thomas in anything but long sleeved shirts and jackets. But when he reached out for me, the sleeves rode up and I had a clear view of his wrist and a small part of his arm.

There was a clear circle of scarred skin on his wrist, no more than half an inch wide; it snaked up his arm and disappeared into the sleeve, and I could just see the edge of another scar poking out. The skin was a deep red color, probably a few shades darker than my hair. But what surprised me most was that those scars looked eerily like one I had on my shoulder from freshman year. Specifically, when I was just learning how to use a fire whip and accidentally burned myself.

I tried to keep my voice level, but I don't know how well I did. "W-where did you get those scars?"

He glanced down at his hand, and for a brief moment panic flickered in his eyes. Then he drew his hand away from mine and said in a purposely light voice, "Ah, that thing. That is the unfortunate result of my small eight-year-old brain and the bike I got for Christmas."

"That came from a bike?"

"Weird, right?"

"Yeah..." I said slowly. I couldn't help but notice he'd rolled his sleeve down so it covered the marks. "Especially since it goes all around your wrist."

He gave a tight smile. "What can I say? I was only eight, I don't remember much."

I shrugged it off like I believed him, and that was the end of that. But any vague notions I might've had about telling him the truth were gone. If he was allowed to lie to my face like that, then I could certainly keep a few secrets. I was only following his lead now.

Or at least that's how I tried to rationalize it.

Thankfully, I didn't get to stew in my twisted rationalizations and self-hatred for too long, because a distraction whipped into the break room in the form of one very giddy Gabrielle Bashir. She was wearing her favorite pink silk shirt, which I'd always jealously admired her for being able to pull off (redheads and pink isn't a nice combination unless you want to look like Pepto-Bismol puke), and there was something about the flushed glow to her skin that no amount of makeup could replicate. And she was humming - actually humming the melody to what I thought was "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" as she opened the fridge and rummaged through for whatever she was looking for.

This was _seriously_ weird.

"Hey, Gaby," I said casually - anything to take my mind off of the disappointing state of my relationship. "What's up?"

She looked up, doing her best impression of a deer in the headlights at first, before her expression relaxed. "Oh, it's just you two," she sighed.

"Are you alright?" I asked again. "Because you don't seem like yourself."

"Oh, I'm fine. Better than fine, really." Her eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas.

Thomas shot me an 'I told you so' look. "Does this amazingly perky attitude have something do with what's going to be announced later today, Boss Lady?"

She tried to smirk at him, but she looked too happy for it to be anything other than teasing. "It might, Crowell."

"Bullshit, it completely does." He sat up straight in his chair. "What's up?"

Gaby glanced between us for a moment, as though debating. That was short lived, though, because a moment later she bit her lip and smiled.

"Oh, what the hell; I'm going to end up blabbing if I don't tell someone soon, anyway. But you have to keep it to yourselves, alright?"

"I swear."

"Agreed." Thomas said.

Gaby nodded, and held out her right hand for us to see. "Someone's going to walk away today with a lot of money in their pocket; and not from an official bonus."

My jaw dropped as I took in the sparkling diamond ring on her finger. "Gaby, he didn't..."

She was grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, but he did."

Thomas smirked. "Well damn; you've got a good guy there, Gaby. He screwed me out of a hundred bucks, but I'm sure he's nice."

"Remind me to laugh at you later. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go phone my sister. And keep your mouths shut!" With that, she headed out the door, humming again. I couldn't help but shake my head; if she kept up the strange attitude, everyone would figure out what'd happened before noon.

I let out a tiny gasp when I felt arms wrap around my waist from behind, then sighed and leaned back against his chest. It was beyond inappropriate, but Thomas's lips felt too good on the side of my neck for me to even think about pushing him away. "Gaby and Ben are inspiring me," he said in a low voice that gave me goosebumps. "How about you and I cut out early and go do something much more fun than sitting around in this stuffy office? Gaby's so lovestruck, she'll never notice..."

Was I tempted? Hell yes. Even with the chasm of lies and secrets rapidly growing between us, I'm only human, after all, and a woman who had gone way too long without male attention. It wouldn't fix anything, but it would be so nice to just escape from my problems for a little while. But then his arm shifted slightly, and even though it was most likely just my imagination acting up, I swore I could feel his scar. It was enough to make me remember all the reasons why this was a very bad idea.

Gently, I eased myself out of his arms and turned around to look at him. "I'm sorry, but there's... something I really have to do today." And before I could think twice about it, I swiped my bag off the table and took off out the door, never looking back to see the confusion I knew had to be written all over his face.

Because I knew that if I did, I'd never be able to go.

* * *

Thomas's sister's house was unreal. I'd known that Westchester was one of the wealthiest counties in New York, but there was a big difference between knowing something in abstract and actually seeing it in front of your eyes. This was white-picket-fence territory to the extreme, and so far removed from anything I'd ever known that I couldn't help feel a little uncomfortable.

It was also hard to reconcile this wealthy suburban paradise with Thomas, who drove a motorcycle and sometimes wore the same shirt two days in a row. Well, you wanted answers, I told myself. Now you're gonna get them.

Well, I would if I ever got the nerve to ring the doorbell.

I'd been sitting on the ridiculously large front porch for maybe half an hour, trying to decide if I was actually going to go through with it or if I should just get up and leave, when the sound of a garage door opening made me jump. Looking over, I saw a silver minivan pull up the driveway, and seconds later, a dark-haired woman got out of the front seat.

My heart was beating a little too fast for it to be natural._ You know what, this was a mistake_, I decided, grabbing my bag and getting up, hoping she hadn't seen me.

"Were you ever going to ring the bell? Or were you just going to sit there all day?"

I jumped, spinning around to see the woman from the car - who I assumed was Rebecca - standing behind me, her arms full of groceries. She was on the shorter side, with dark brown hair and eyes to match (I didn't realize just how much I'd been hoping that those light hazel eyes of Thomas's were a family thing). Probably in her early thirties, wearing a simple burgundy sweater and well-made jeans, like the picture of a happy, healthy, suburban lifestyle.

But the quip was pure Thomas, and I felt myself relax a little despite everything. "I'm sorry. I didn't even realize there wasn't anyone home."

"Obviously." She was smiling, but she looked a little confused. "Do I know you? Is there a particular reason you're here?"

It was now or never. "I was hoping I could talk to Rebecca Crowell."

She raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it's Brown - has been for the last ten months. But, what exactly is it you were hoping to talk to me about?"

"Thomas."

Her jaw dropped, and I felt a twinge of curiosity; this did not seem like a typical reaction for meeting a friend of a sibling. Especially since she looked downright shocked. "You know my little brother?"

"I... I'm his girlfriend."

Rebecca stared at me for a few seconds, obviously in complete shock. For a second I thought she was going to ask me to leave, and I wanted to slap myself. _Nice going genius. Ambush a woman at her home about the brother she hasn't seen in at least a few months. You're going to need a serious memory spell for this one._

But after another moment, her mouth closed and she took a deep breath, almost like she was composing herself. Then she gestured towards the door. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?"

* * *

"I'm sorry about dropping in on you so suddenly..."

"Don't worry about it," Rebecca insisted. "It's nice to see Tommy's letting people back into his life again - as much to have a girlfriend, at least."

_So he really _is_ bad at connecting with people._ The information wasn't anything I hadn't suspected, but having it confirmed sent chills down my spine. "Well, with all the sarcasm and constant flirting, it was easier to just say yes before he started following me home."

To my relief, she laughed. "That's Tommy, alright. Sarcasm is his specialty." She sat a steaming red polka dot mug in front of me. "Though I have to ask; the last I knew he'd moved out to California to work at a publishing firm. You didn't come all the way across the country to see me, did you?"

"Oh no," I lied. "I was... visiting family in the area. Remembered seeing your address in some papers of his, and thought maybe I'd stop by." Even as the words left my mouth, I knew what a feeble story this was, and prayed she'd buy it without asking too many questions.

Rebecca's lips curled up into a very familiar grin, as she took a sip from her own mug. "He doesn't know you're here, does he?"

I laughed a little. "Not even a clue."

"Not surprising; he's terrible at picking up on things like that." Rebecca sat her mug down. "I'll be honest, though, Bloom. If you came here to learn more about Thomas, I don't think I can be much help."

I nodded. "You mentioned he had trouble letting people in; did you two have problems with that?"

She gave a pained sigh. "Not originally. We were very close growing up, and we had a few cousins around our age - it was pretty nice. Tommy was always pretty outgoing, too. One of those people who didn't like to see anyone left out. He always wanted everyone to be friendly with each other, having fun... it was something that everyone always admired about him."

It made me feel weird, when she used that nickname; I just couldn't imagine Thomas as a 'Tommy'. It had to be a sibling thing. But there was something about what she said that set me on edge. "Was?"

"...Yes. While he was very outgoing through high school and college, he's been acting much more reclusive since the accident."

My eyes widened, and my hands suddenly felt colder. I wrapped them around the steaming coffee mug. "What accident?"

Rebecca looked equally shocked. "You mean he didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Rebecca took a deep breath. "After he graduated, he lived on his own in the city for a while. He was fighting with our parents at the time, refused to take any of their money... his apartment was an ancient piece of crap. And one night, it caught on fire." She closed her eyes, rubbing her temples like she was getting a headache. "Faulty wiring, they said; the landlord shouldn't have been allowed to rent it out without getting it fixed. Like the check we got out of it was going to make up for almost losing my brother."

"That's... horrible," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"The doctors said it's a miracle he survived, that he must've had a guardian angel looking out for him. Surely, you must've seen the scars - they're all over his arms and chest." She looked away slightly, and I blushed when I realized what she was intimating.

"I... I think I saw one this-" I caught myself just in time- "the other day, but... he lied to me about it." I shivered, remembering the cold feeling when I just knew that he was lying to my face. "We haven't been together too long, but... he keeps a lot of secrets."

She sighed, crossing one leg over the other. "As much as I hate to say it, that does sound like him now. I don't understand it any more than you do, but when he got out of the hospital... it was like he was a different person. He didn't want to be around us at all; just about broke my parents' heart. I was kind of glad when he moved, no matter how bad that sounds." I looked up to see her staring at me intently. "Don't get me wrong. For all his crazy, I love my brother, I really do. But I wish he'd sort himself out already. Whatever happened in that fire, however he made it out, it changed him. And I know change is a part of life, but... is it so wrong to want my brother back?" Her big brown eyes were practically pleading, and it was making me more than a little uncomfortable.

"Of course not." Without thinking, I reached out and put my hand over hers. "The person you described sounds like a wonderful guy." _He also sounds nothing like my Thomas, but..._ "It's not a bad thing, to want him back."

She smiled slightly. "God, you must think I'm really rude or something; going on about how my brother used to be, when you obviously fell for who he is now."

I laughed. "No, it's alright. I like hearing about his childhood. It's not like he's going to tell me anything about himself."

"True." A spark of something lit behind her eyes, and she got to her feet. "Do you want to see some pictures?"

"S-sure," I said. She disappeared down the hall to go get them, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

So I was right - those were burn scars, after all. Something about that story tickled at the back of my mind; it reminded me too much of another one, very close to my heart. A fire in a building, someone surviving against all odds...

"Here we go." Rebecca plopped a giant red leather photo album on the table in front of me. "This is just the high school years; I think he'd probably kill me if he knew I dug out the baby pictures for his girlfriend. No sense burning bridges and all."

I laughed, opening the album. "This is great, thanks." My eyes scanned over images of a tall, lanky dark-haired guy in various positions - laughing with his arms slung around friends, casting a fishing line, kissing an older woman (I assumed that was their mom) on the cheek. His hair might've been shorter, and that goofy grin was completely foreign, but it was unmistakably Thomas. "You were right," I said softly, flipping through the pages. "He's like a completely different person." Pursing my lips, I brought my coffee cup up to my mouth as I turned the next page.

And promptly started to choke.

"Are you okay?" Rebecca rushed to my side, all concerns.

Swallowing, I choked out, "Y-yeah, I'm fine..." I couldn't take my eyes off the image: what looked like a professionally taken close-up, probably a senior portrait. In every other picture, there was always enough else going on that I hadn't noticed before, but now I did.

His eyes - those beautiful, crazily familiar eyes of his that I often loved and hated in equal measures - weren't the same color. They were dark, dark brown like Rebecca's.

I had to grip the table for fear of passing out. _How... how does something like that happen? Eyes don't just change color like that. What is going on here...?_

"Really, are you sure?" I heard Rebecca's voice, but dimly, like she was speaking through a wind tunnel. "You don't look so good."

"I'm fine," I insisted, closing the album with a little more force than necessary. "I-I think I should go," I said, stumbling to my feet.

"Alright," she said, but I could tell she was suspicious. She didn't say anything, though, which I thanked every higher power possible for.

"Bloom?" she said, as she walked me to the door. "Take care of my brother, okay? He needs someone to care about him, and if he won't let it be any of us... well, you're not a bad second choice."

I smiled, seeing through her poor word choice for the compliment it really was. "Thank you for everything, Rebecca," I said. "Really, it means a lot."

"Anytime." When she shut the door, I stood there on the front porch for another moment, breathing hard and trying to compose myself.

I had my answers, all right. Now the question was, what the hell was I going to do with them?

* * *

**Hooray for updates!**

**So, yes, we've got another update between now and Valentine's Day, when our _huge_ chapter is going up (you guys are gonna love it, don't worry!).**

**Now, I just wanted to remind everyone (because I know it's been 9 chapters now), Baltor _is_ going to be in this story. I know it seems like we've got this filed under the completely wrong character category, since we're a good 10.000 words in and the only mentions we have are from Bloom, but fret not! You all should know by now Authoress and I are Sparxshipping fanatics. Trust me, this is all going to make sense soon!**

**Also, there's another announcement from Authoress! She's competing in a writing contest for Seventeen magazine, and the piece she wrote is _awesome_! If you love this story, or any of her other ones, you've got to vote for her! And you can do that by visiting the story at the figment website and adding this to the end of the URL - (books/520986-Bittersweet), and leaving a 'heart' on it. *Please note you'll need a figment account to heart it, but it's easy to make and there's so many good stories on there it'll be worth it* But it would mean a lot to A (and me!) if you went and did that.**

**And of course, don't forget to leave a review!**

**~ember & Authoress**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Rachel loved her friends. As freshmen, they'd been an odd group - six girls with six completely different personalities - but somehow the bond between roommates had survived and blossomed into something truly magical. If she ever needed anything, anything at all, she always knew who to go to for help. Though they might've been different on the outside, one thing they all had in common was their immense capacity to love._

_ That said, sometimes she wished for nothing more than to be alone. And living with five other teenage girls, solitude was quite hard to come by._

_"Have you heard from Connor?" Elena asked, crossing one long, thin leg over the other, angling her body towards Rachel._

_ "Yeah," Harper piped up, taking her left earbud out. "That party was _crazy_, and you deserve some explanation if you ask me."_

_ Rachel felt a knot tighten in her stomach - the one that had been present for the last few weeks when she thought about what happened at the gala. Though the cause of it - Connor's betrayal or her (almost) own - still wasn't clear._

"_Guys!" She came out of her thoughts to find Lorelei giving the other girls a disapproving look. "Let it be. If Rachel doesn't want to talk about it, she shouldn't have to."_

_Rachel gave her roommate a grateful smile. "Sorry guys, it's just a... sore subject."_

_"I don't deny that," Nadia said, tossing a ball into the air and catching it absently (nobody knew what kind of ball it was though - Nadia was involved in so many sports, it was hard to tell what she was doing at any given time). "But what I _also_ can't deny is that something weird happened to Connor back there, and sitting around here isn't going to give you any answers."_

_ "You could hypertext him," Tess offered helpfully. "It'd be a good way to talk to him without making it so personal."_

_ Rachel shrugged. "I appreciate the advice, you guys, but I think I should wait until he tries to talk to _me_. Besides, if I try to talk to him, there's the chance I'll have to go through the Ice Queen first."_

_ Elena shuddered. "I don't even know what Connor finds appealing about Liana. I've seen polar bears more cuddly than her."_

"_And more modestly dressed!" Nadia laughed._

_Rachel couldn't find it in her heart to give a genuine laugh. She knew the girls were trying to make her feel better, but she'd prefer it if they'd stop talking about the subject altogether. Finally, she stood from the couch and stretched._ _"I think I'm going to shower and call it a night, you guys. Advanced potions killed me today, and I'm tired of smelling like oak tree sap."_

_She'd expected an argument, but to her surprise the girls let her off easy. Maybe they figured they'd pried enough for one night. Rachel felt a small pang of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by the opportunity to get some time alone._

_She walked into the room she shared with Lorelei and shed her purple plaid top, leaving her in a black tank and jean shorts. Just as she reached for the hem of the other shirt, she heard a voice behind her that sent chills down her spine._

"_Nice friends you've got there. Haven't they ever heard of not pouring salt in an open wound?"_

_Rachel inhaled sharply, heart racing as she whirled around to see Valentine leaning casually against the door she'd only closed a moment ago. "You've _got_ to be kidding me," she said, wrapping her arms around her chest protectively. "Aren't there supposed to be wards on this place, to keep things like _you_ out?"_

_He chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief, and almost instinctively, she took a step backwards as he took a step forwards. "And you really thought those would keep _me_ out?" Her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth as he took another step forwards. "I thought you were smarter than that."_

"_K-keep your voice down!" she hissed finally. "You're crazy, you know; my friends are in the next room. All I have to do is scream and they'll discover you."_

"_But you're not going to scream, are you Rachel?" She shivered as he came close enough to brush a lock of hair off her forehead, but for the millionth time, she wondered why she didn't push him away. "And for your information, my dear, there's a silencing spell on this room. No one will ever have to know what happens here tonight."_

_Taking a deep breath, she took a big step backwards and turned around, putting her back to him. "Nothing's _going_ to happen, Valentine," she said forcefully, heading over to her dresser and rummaging through the drawers for something to cover up; she didn't like the way she could feel his gaze on her bare skin. "You've got to stop this. I meant what I said that night; I'm never going to give in to you." Pulling out an old blue sweatshirt, she hastily yanked it over her head, shoving her arms through the sleeves, before turning back to him. "You're just wasting your time."  
"Am I?" She sucked in a nervous breath when she looked up to see him right in front of her, having crossed the length of the room like it was nothing. "See, I don't think you really believe what you're saying, Rachel, because if you did, you would've done something about this by now. I've made myself vulnerable to you several times now, and you've done nothing to take advantage of it. That tells me that on some level, at least, you don't want me out of your life."_

"_That's ridiculous!" she sputtered. But even as she said it, questions popped into the back of her head. _Did_ she have feelings for him? Was that the feeling she had knotted in her stomach; not anger at Connor, but anger at herself for falling out of love with him?_

"_It doesn't seem that ridiculous to me."_

_She felt her palms start to sweat. "I-I think you should leave now."_

_ A faint smirk crossed his lips. "Should I? That's interesting, because I get the feeling you really don't want me to."_

_ Rachel's back was against the wall by now, and Valentine stood directly in front of her, giving her no way out. Somehow, she found the courage (or idiocy - she wasn't sure which) to stand up straight and look him in the eyes. He was a good six inches taller than she was, but that wasn't what surprised her. _

_What surprised her was that she was looking into the eyes of a man who'd ruthlessly attacked the dimension, harmed her friends and family, and killed innocent people. There should've been anger, hate, an unforgiving glare; _anything_ but what she was seeing. A look that she couldn't quite explain, but she didn't have to because she'd seen and lived it. It frightened her, but it also frightened her because she wasn't very afraid of it._

_Somehow, she found her voice. "Then what do I want?"_

_Valentine's smirk faded, and he looked serious for the first time since Rachel met him. "I think you want me to kiss you."_

_Her eyes widened. "You're crazy."_

"_Rachel-"_

"_Get _out_!" she yelled. "I admire your acting skills, but I'm not that stupid."_

_He blinked. "What in the realms are you talking about?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused._

"_All this - messing with my head - I know it's just an elaborate ploy to give you an advantage over us." Hands on hips, she stared daggers at him. "You don't want me. You just want to _use_ me. And lately, I've had more of that than anyone should ever have." She pointed a finger towards the door. "So get out before I throw you out myself."_

_But Valentine didn't move, and neither did Rachel, both knowing her threat was an empty one. It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke. "You are a truly maddening woman," he said in a voice so low as to almost be inaudible. "Do you think I _wanted_ this? In all my years in this universe, I have never cared so much about another person's opinion of me. That was the life I chose for myself, to never form attachments, and I've never regretted that choice - until now." He grasped her wrist tightly, forcing her to look up at him; his eyes were the color of the sea during a storm. "If I could do anything to get rid of these feelings, I would - and believe me, I've tried. But you are so stubborn, and proud, and fiery, and beautiful..."_

_Rachel's mouth went dry. "What... what are you saying, Valentine?"_

_He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples like he had a headache. "I shouldn't care so much about what happens to you. You're an enemy of Krystal's, which should make you an enemy of mine. But I don't... _want_ to be your enemy." He seemed to be struggling with his words. "I look at the pain in your eyes and I want to murder anyone who hurt you. I can't stop thinking about you; I feel like I'm going insane." Rachel's heart thumped against her chest._

"_So to answer your question-" he laughed bitterly, "this most certainly is not some kind of trick, darling."_

_She stared at him and slumped back against the wall, desperate to find something to keep her balance with. While she'd always been aware of the truth of their situation, the realization hit her like a ton of bricks._

_Almost like a dream, she felt a hand on her wrist. He was practically leaning over her, but she didn't have it in her heart to push him away. "Tell me what you're thinking."_

_Rachel shook her head. "I don't know."_

_Valentine chuckled softly. "Should I give you a hint, then?"_

_Hesitantly, she nodded. "Okay."_

_He tilted her face up so she was looking right into his eyes. While they'd been dark moments ago, now they looked lighter, like a small patch of blue sky peeking out from the clouds. "I think you should let me kiss you now."_

_Rachel managed to whisper a 'yes' before her eyes slid closed and his lips touched hers._

_She had thought it would be wild and passionate, intense like the man himself, but instead the kiss was like pure air after a long time of being closed up in the airless dark. His lips were soft and firm; one of his hands circled the back of her neck, bringing them closer. With the other hand, he cupped her face, running his thumb gently across her cheekbone._

_His touch, his lips, were tentative, and she knew why; he expected her to pull away at any moment. But she didn't want to pull away. Even as she wondered at the fact that it was Valentine making her head swim and her ears ring, she felt her arms rise as if of their own accord, curving around his neck._

_He gasped against her mouth. He must have been so sure she would push him away that for a moment he went still. Hesitantly, he returned her gentle caress, and then with greater force - kissing her again and again, each time with increasing urgency, until finally, he let her go._

_Rachel's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, studiously avoiding his gaze. As they were the only two people in the room, there was only so long she could do that, though, before it became utterly ridiculous._

_When she finally did look at him, he was smirking again, though this one seemed a bit more guarded. "Isn't it a bit too early to be having second thoughts, darling?"_

_She felt her cheeks burn, and privately she marveled at how her body could still react to him despite her knowing what he was. "I don't... know what this is I feel for you," she started. "I wouldn't have believed it was even possible for me to have feelings like this, but you... you're not like anyone I've ever known."_

"_And neither are you." He took a step towards her, hesitantly reaching out a hand towards her own. "This is a first for me too, Rachel, and I can't promise anything about how it will end. But if I've learned anything in my life, it's that sitting around and wondering what it could've been like never makes it any better."_

_Rachel sighed. A tiny, rational part of her brain was screaming at her that this was a bad idea, but it had run out of excuses why, so she silenced it and tentatively asked, "So... what are we, then?"_

_His eyes flickered with surprise, before quickly returning to his default smirk. "_We_? So you're admitting to there being a 'we' now?"_

_She narrowed her eyes. "Valentine..."_

"_Rachel," he shot back lightly, holding her stare. "I think you're beautiful, and amazing, and I really want to kiss you again-" her eyebrows arched at his boldness, but she said nothing- "and why can't that be enough? This is for the two of us. Do we have to put a label on it?"_

_She sighed again. "Okay. I'm taking a chance here and deciding to trust you; you know that right?"_

_He gave her a devilish smirk. "I would hate to disappoint. Now," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Where were we?"_

_Rachel smiled as she reached up and kissed him again. But a new thought darted into her head, and she pulled back._

_Valentine gave her a pointed look. "Now what is it?"_

_She shut her eyes tightly, feeling embarrassed. "I just... my friends are on the other side of the wall, and even with a silencing spell, it's still awkward..."_

_He chuckled. "I see." Rachel opened her eyes, smiling slightly at the sight of Valentine laughing; she wished that he would do it more, it transformed his entire face. "Well then, we're going to need to find a new place to do this."_

* * *

The trill of my ringtone startled me from my thoughts; thankful for the distraction, I reached over and picked it up without glancing at the Caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, B." The voice was as familiar to me as my own, but I let out a small sigh anyways. I should've known that not checking the Caller ID would come back to bite me in the butt. "I catch you at a good time? I can never remember the time difference on Earth."

I hadn't talked to either Musa or Riven since the debacle at the Magix Library, and honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to. With all the other crazy stuff going on in my life right now, I really didn't have the energy to deal with petty friendship drama. But I did need to talk to _someone_ about what I'd found out from Rebecca, and since Musa already knew part of the story...

Stealing one last glance at the computer screen, I brought my legs up to my chest and switched the phone to my other ear, getting comfortable. "Yeah, I can talk now. What's up?"

There was a small laugh on the other end of the line. "Whoa, I can practically hear you bubbling with excitement."

I laughed. "Sorry."

"No, no, that's actually why I called. I guess Riv got the best of me at the library... I shouldn't have snapped at you. What happens in your life is your business now. And you still trust us; you wouldn't have come to us if you didn't."

A smile flickered across my lips. The apology was unexpected, and it was nice to hear that she and Riven were starting to get along again (at least enough for her to start calling him 'Riv' again). "I really appreciate that, Musa. And you guys were right, too - I've been dragging you into a lot of this with no real explanation. That's not fair of me. And to be honest, I could really use someone to vent to."

She laughed. "Hit me, baby. What's going on?"

"Well... it's about Thomas."

"Your boyfriend. Don't tell me he _was_ cheating; you know the offer still stands to have the girls and me kick his ass, right?"

"Yeah, I know. It wasn't that. But, remember how I thought he was lying about his family? And I know you weren't thrilled about my idea to talk to them..."

"But you did anyways."

I nodded. "His sister, Rebecca. The one whose address we got."

"Right. And based on your tone of voice, I take it she had some pretty interesting news."

I leaned my head back against the brown leather sofa (even with our combined salaries, Anna and I had been just shy of buying a couch - the one we had was from the Ellises' old house in California before they moved to New York). "I don't even know what to think about it."

"So he was lying about his family?"

"I don't know if 'lie' is the correct word, since he didn't tell me much about them. But... there are just these _details_ - small things that shouldn't even matter that he seems so hell-bent on keeping from me. And there are bigger ones, but I understand those more, I guess..."

"You sound thoroughly _un_convinced," Musa said.

"Well I mean... based on what Rebecca told me, he doesn't have a reason to act like this, and his attitude change wasn't until recently. It's almost like her memories of Thomas and the Thomas I know are two completely different people. Her Thomas was carefree and light... and mine's guarded and secretive. And about the stupidest things! Like, he has these scars, and when I asked him about them, he told me a completely different story than what his sister said. So one of them is lying, and I just... I don't know if I can be with someone who has no compunctions over lying to my face like that."

"I know the feeling," Musa said bitterly. "It sucks."

I groaned. "What do I do, then?"

"Confront him," she said, like it was the simplest thing. "You deserve the truth, and he should be willing to give it to you."

"But every time I try to talk to him about it, he either gets too quiet or changes the subject."

"Then do it in a public place, so he can't make a scene, and just push until he tells you what you want to know."

I thought for a moment. "Well... our boss is having her big engagement party this weekend, and we're both going."

"That's perfect," she insisted. "That's your big chance to face him head on."

"I don't know; isn't that a bit of a low blow?"

"Hey, you deserve the truth. If he hadn't been so secretive, you wouldn't be in that position, right?"

"...Right."

"There you go then."

"And if he still doesn't give me the truth?"

"Kick him to the curb," Musa said without pausing. "Trust me, if it comes to that, you'll be better off without him, anyway."

I sighed again. "You're right."

"Of course I am," she replied playfully. "And another piece of advice - wear something _killer_ to that party; maybe with a low cut back or something. If worst comes to worst, you'll walk out of there and show him _just_ what he'll be missing."

One hand automatically reached up to the back of my neck, my fingers running over a familiar patch of inked skin. "I guess if I wear my hair down, Anna has a strapless purple dress I could borrow..."

"And no matter what happens, I _demand_ you call me and tell me what happens the very next day."

I smiled. "I will. Promise."

"Good. And with that advice, I'm afraid I must depart; I've got reservations for dinner in Magix."

My smile turned to a smirk. "Oh? Is this a solo dinner, or are you planning to meet a certain redhead there?"

She seemed flustered. "Well... we've been talking more since the library, I guess. But it's just a friendly dinner - nothing else."

"Right..."

Musa laughed. "Bloom!"

"Okay, okay, butting out. But _I_ want an equal amount of details when I call again."

"I suppose that's fair." There was a pause. "I... I guess I'll talk to you soon?"

"You will," I promised. "Have a good time."

"You too. No matter what happens."

I smiled a little. "Okay. Bye, Musa."

"Bye, B."

I was smiling when I hit the END button, reaching over to drop my phone back on the nearby side table._ Why _did_ I spend the last four years cutting off all contact from the girls whatsoever? I left the magical dimension; it's not like I _died_..._ I made a vow to myself that when things quieted down a bit in my life, that I would go back and see everyone again. Anna was incredible, but there was no replacement for the Winx Club; I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed them all until now.

Something was bugging me about our conversation, though, and it wasn't until I shifted my legs slightly and heard a loud _thump_ as my laptop hit the floor that I remembered what I'd been doing when Musa called. I'd been avoiding the office ever since coming back from Westchester, too afraid of running into Thomas and how I might react around him. Thankfully, Gaby was being pretty tolerant of my absences (or maybe just too love-sick to notice anything around her; when I'd made a quick run-in for some old sketches the other day, she'd spent the whole time on the phone, gushing to her hairdresser, I think, about her engagement), so I'd been more or less able to get away with it; I could draw at home just as easily as in the office, after all. But today, something had lodged in my head and just refused to stop bothering me until I picked up my laptop and started reading more of Thomas's story.

The further I read, the more parallels I saw, and I wondered why I hadn't told Musa the other half of the story - about Thomas's eyes, and the book, and all my little suspicions that there was more to this than met the eye. Most likely, I was just paranoid (and so she was better off not knowing my crazy delusions), but maybe there was another reason too, something I barely admitted to myself. If it somehow _did_ turn out that I was right... well, I didn't have the faintest clue how I was going to deal with that.

_One thing at a time, Bloom,_ I told myself. _You can cross that bridge when - _if - _you come to it._

Still, the thought of reading any more twisted something in the pit of my stomach, so I put my laptop on the coffee table and reached for the remote, kicking my feet up and flipping through the channels. I finally settled on an old episode of some mindless reality show, not really paying attention to it. It wasn't until the commercial break that I realized what had unnerved me so much.

I had no doubt that Valentine and Rachel would get a happy ending, but right now, my own story looked far less certain.

* * *

**The February updates are coming...**

**Please not the 's' on the end of that! This is just the pre-filler, calm before the storm update! Chapter 10 will be going up on Valentine's Day because...well, most of us (read: me) are lonely and single, and fanfiction makes everything better! So get excited! Besides, there may be other updates from Authoress and I that are going up...**

**So with that, I'm off to prep for my Mock Trial competition tomorrow! So wish me luck (preferably in a review!)**

**~ember&Authoress**


	11. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10_

Gaby's engagement party was on Valentine's Day at Ronan's, a swanky upscale restaurant in Newport Beach (about a fifteen minute drive north of Santa Ana - though with the population of Southern California being what it was, it felt like you hadn't even changed cities). She and Ben had rented out a large private room upstairs with a small dance floor and buffet-style service. With all the music, food, and friends, it was a great time that was sure to go down in history.

Now if only I was enjoying it.

"Do you honestly expect to hide in the bathroom all night?" Anna asked me when I called her for a second opinion.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, wondering what had ever possessed me to follow Musa's advice and borrow that strapless dress. "I just... I don't want a big blowup."

"A blowup? Bloom; whose superpower magic thingie led to a war between _high school students_?"

"That's totally irrelevant and you know it!"

"Bloom. Whose powers?"

After a moment, I sighed. "Mine did."

"And who fought in that war?"

"I did."

"And who has fought in a bunch of other battles against things I can't even imagine or pronounce correctly?"

"...I have."

"Exactly. I think it's a bit too late to say you're against 'big blowups.'"

"This isn't the same thing though!" I insisted, waving my hand over the sensor on the sink and watching it turn on and off. "This doesn't have to do with protecting the magical dimension. This has to do with me wanting a normal relationship with a normal guy."

"And part of that normality is marching yourself out there and giving him a piece of your mind. Besides, he might not even be there yet."

I bit my lip. "He is. I... kinda ran for the bathroom when I saw him come in."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Bloom, you have faced down the lord of _the freaking dead_!"

"Actually it was Shadowhaunt- "

"Who cares? You are the most badass person I know, and you're being intimidated by some punk with an English degree! Now march your butt out there before _I _go up there and do it myself!"

She hung up before I could say another word.

I rolled my eyes and put my phone away. Calling Anna back would do no good; she'd just send me to voicemail. And as much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Running from my problems wouldn't help me at all. I had to face them head on, and if that meant things with Thomas would end tonight, it was the best thing for it.

At least, that was what I told myself.

After putting my hair back in a halfway decent bun (I'd been dancing a little bit before Thomas showed up, and for some reason it was obscenely hot in there) and applying a coat of lip gloss, I headed back into the party. It'd filled up significantly while I was in the bathroom, and the room seemed much more alive. I took a deep breath. _You can do this Bloom. Just enjoy yourself, and when you find Thomas, be honest with him. It's all you can do._ With that pep talk going through my brain, I held my head up high and confidently stepped into the room.

And of course, I barely made it three steps before colliding with another person. "Sorry, sorry," I exclaimed automatically, not bothering to look up. Instead of moving on, though, their hands settled around my waist; _that_ made me look up with a start, to see that I had just literally bumped into the person I was supposed to be looking for but didn't really want to find.

"Hey there, stranger." In the 'romantic' dim lighting, Thomas's eyes practically glowed, which did nothing for the knot of nerves in my stomach. He flashed me his trademark grin, carefree and slightly mocking and everything I loved so much about him all wrapped into one, and just like that, all my resolve was lying in a puddle at my feet. "Have you been hiding from me?"

My mouth felt like the Sahara Desert. "I, um..."

He chuckled. "Okay, you cannot be allowed to shut yourself in ever again if this is going to be the end result. I can't date someone who forgets what a joke is." He turned around for a second, giving me time to remember the story I'd fed him: that I'd had to scrap an entire concept and was hiding out at home in hopes of getting the creative juices to flow. "You look like you could use a drink," he said when he turned back, a glass of wine in each hand. "Hope you don't mind, but I'm not much a fan of the stronger stuff, so I wouldn't know what to get, and somehow I doubt the drink of the night would appeal to you - it's called 'Cupid's Brew'."

I laughed, gratefully wrapping my fingers around the stem and taking a slightly larger than polite-sized sip; I was definitely going to need alcohol to get through this. "Hasn't Gaby ever heard of taking a theme to excess?"

"Apparently not; have you seen this place?" I _had_ noticed the somewhat ridiculous amount of heart-themed decorations everywhere (I don't even want to think about how Gaby got Ben to agree to them...). It had always bothered me in years past, how she'd insist on covering the office in pink and red paper around the second week of February. Now I finally had a boyfriend, and I couldn't even enjoy the one holiday unquestionably made for couples. Fate sure had a funny sense of humor sometimes. "If I hadn't seen the invitations with my own eyes, I would've sworn she'd written in a dress code too. You stand out like a sore thumb with all the pink, white, and red in here."

My hands automatically flew up to my hair, where I could feel a stray curl escaping from the bun already (damn). "You try growing up a redhead and see if you ever want to wear those colors."

"Never said I was complaining." I felt the heat of his gaze as his eyes traveled down the length of my body, slowly making their way back up. Something flickered behind his eyes, and I was momentarily glad I'd let Musa talk me into wearing the stupid dress. "Here, let me get that..." It took me a second to realize he was talking about that piece of hair, and before I could protest he had stepped behind me; then his fingertips brushed against my bare shoulders and I had to bite my tongue to keep from letting out an audible sigh.

My temporary mind-blank didn't last, though, and when more than a few seconds had gone by I started to wonder if something was going on. Or - oh God forbid, he noticed my tattoo; that was a story I _really_ couldn't get into tonight. The minute that thought entered my head, I wanted to take my hair down, but that would definitely be conspicuous now.

Finally, his fingers bumped against the back of my head, clumsily tucking the escaped piece of hair back into the bun. Fortifying myself with another gulp (it really couldn't be called a sip) of wine, I turned around to face him, hoping my thoughts weren't written all over my face. "So," I started, then hesitated. Did I really have to do this right away? _No_, I decided. We could have a little fun before the inevitable - assuming I could keep acting like everything was normal, that is. "Do you want to dance?"

For a moment, he looked positively stunned, as if I'd just told him I was a Russian spy (_or a fairy_, some sarcastic voice in the back of my mind added). But after a moment he smiled, though I couldn't help but notice it looked a bit more forced than before. "I would love to."

We stayed out on the dance floor for a few songs, most of them with a beat we could just sway along to. And while it was nice, being in his arms, I couldn't help but notice there was something strange about the way Thomas was acting. I could tell he wasn't focused on anything around us - we'd nearly bumped into other dancing couples three times - but he wasn't really looking at me, either. Every now and then, I would see him giving me what I could only think of as a look of pure shock, but he didn't make any move to talk, and all my attempts at making conversation were met with answers clearly meant to shut down any further discussion.

Finally, I squeezed his arm so he would look at me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, brushing it off like he had every other time I'd tried to talk to him, but I could tell he really wasn't. His gaze was shifting nervously all over the room, and there were tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. Realizing that the heat was getting to me too, I made an abrupt decision.

"No, you're not. Come on." Without waiting for him to protest, I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the dance floor and out the door that separated the private room from the rest of the restaurant. Upstairs, there wasn't much else besides the bathrooms and a tiny little hallway with giant framed pictures on both of the surrounding walls, but it was at least a little bit cooler, without all the people. I shut the door behind us and then leaned against the opposite wall, crossing my arms over my chest and staring him down. "Now tell me what's going on with you."

Thomas gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm fine, okay? Probably one too many of those Cupid's Brew things."

I raised an eyebrow. "How many did you down before you found me, then? Twenty? And besides, you said you hated them." He opened his mouth, then closed it once he realized I'd caught his lie. I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, _what_ is going on with you? We were doing so great, and then you start lying to me. What's so bad you can't tell me about it?" I didn't know why I'd gotten it into my head to confront him _now_, but once the words were out, it was impossible to take them back - and I didn't want to, either.

"I... I have not been lying."

This time, I didn't try to hide the disbelief on my face. "I know you have."

"Oh really? Name one thing."

My hands balled into fists. This was _not_ going well. For a second, I considered dropping the argument entirely, but I knew I'd never forgive myself (and neither would Anna). "Well... those scars for example. I know you didn't get them from a bike accident."

Thomas's jaw dropped. "You... you talked to Rebecca, didn't you?" I didn't respond, and he shook his head in disbelief. "How did you even _find_ her?"

"I- "

"You know what, never mind. I probably don't want to know the answer to that." For a moment he looked sincerely worried about what I was going to tell him. "Just... why would you do that?"

"Because I don't appreciate being lied to!" I snapped. "Look, the last serious boyfriend I had... he did a lot of lying, and as you can see we didn't work out so well."

He gave an unfriendly laugh. "I don't tell you about my life-threatening accident, and suddenly I'm being compared to one of your idiot ex boyfriends?"

"Look, you don't have to make such a big deal out of this..."

"Oh really? Because it seems like you're making a _really_ big deal about this..."

"But this _is_ sort of your fault..."

"And it's really none of your business because it's _my_ personal life!" Thomas yelled. He was obviously mad, and with the lighting in the hallway his eyes looked more golden than they ever had before. "I mean, God, it's not like I forgot to tell you I was engaged and lied to you for a whole year like your dunce blonde prince did about Diaspro!"

The hallway fell deathly silent, the only noise coming from the muted music on the other side of the wall. My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and I felt a familiar knot settle in the pit of my stomach. I stared at Thomas, terrified of him for the first time. "...What did you just say?"

His eyes widened as his words came back to him. "I-I... I mean, I..."

"You said Diaspro." I stared at him, my voice sounding hollow. "How do you know about Diaspro? I've never told you _anything_ about her, or Sky!"

He shut his eyes tightly. "I-"

"And you said _prince_! You can't even _know_ that! How _could_ you know that?"

I expected anger, denial, laughing, _anything_ besides what I was getting now. The man in front of me wouldn't even acknowledge I was there, staring at the ground and probably hoping an excuse would come falling out of the sky. There were gears shifting behind his eyes, trying to find a way for the situation to make sense, and what scared me most of all was that I knew that look, and the last time I'd seen it I hadn't even been on this planet.

It felt like my blood was freezing in my veins, and I started to shake my head. "Tell me it isn't true. Tell me you found some book in that ridiculous collection of yours, or that Anna called you and she accidently told you something she shouldn't have. Hell, say a woman named Musa called you and told you something. Just... don't tell me that. After I tried _so hard _to convince myself that he was gone, and it wasn't you... tell me you're not."

He wouldn't look at me. "Bloom..."

"Thomas! _Tell me_ you aren't him. Tell me you aren't..." The words were stuck in my throat, but somehow I managed to get them out. "Tell me Baltor's dead. Please."

It could've been seconds or minutes before he looked at me. I wasn't even sure. But when he did, he didn't even have to open his mouth to say what I knew he was going to say. And when he did, it felt like my heart was shattering into pieces and stitching itself back together at the same time.

"I can't tell you that anymore."

I turned and ran before he could say anything else.

* * *

The air outside was cold, but it was a welcome change from the stuffiness of the hallway. It was also good in the sense that my body was urging me back to someplace warm. That meant my car, the apartment, or anywhere that wasn't back inside that restaurant.

_He's alive._

"Bloom, stop!"

A hand grabbed my wrist, but I tore away before it could get a decent grip. "Go _away_."

"Please, just hear me out..."

The hand grabbed at my wrist again, and I gave up and spun around. "Was it real? Was _anything_ that you said to me the last three fucking_ months_ real? Or were you so dedicated to a lie that you didn't mind deceiving not only me, but a group of innocent people who don't even have anything to do with this?"

It seemed some of the fight was gone was from his eyes, and I took it as a sign to continue. "I don't even know what to _call_ you! Was there ever a Thomas Crowell here, or was he a lie? Or did you kill him off in that fire, _devastate_ his family, just so you could perpetuate me?"

A flash of anger sparked in his eyes. The man in front of me dropped my wrist as though it were on fire, and I could tell I'd crossed a line in my yelling. He opened his mouth to respond...

"Oh, come _on_. Don't tell me you're bailing out this early; it hasn't even been two hours! I know my dancing isn't great, but is it that scarring?"

My jaw dropped as my eyes fell to the entrance of the restaurant. I'd been so caught up in the fight with Baltor (Thomas? I had no idea what to call him anymore), I'd forgotten the whole reason I'd been at Ronan's.

"Or," Gaby continued, her eyes darting nervously between us, "is there something else?"

"I... uh," My brain seemed to be drawing a blank. It was too surreal; my boss and my enemy turned apparent boyfriend facing each other at the entrance to a steakhouse. I couldn't decide whether to run for it and get a head start on my resignation letter, or start throwing fireballs and worry about wiping Gaby's memory later.

I was so caught up in my thoughts, it took me a minute to realize another voice was speaking. "I know, I know, we're terrible employees. But Bloom just got a call from Anna, and she's a bit stranded. Serves her right for not taking her car in for servicing, I said, but you know this one." Baltor jerked a finger at me, and it took everything in my power to keep my mouth shut. "So, sadly, we get to go play hero in the parking lot of a Forever 21."

Gaby raised an eyebrow. "Bloom?"

"...It's actually an Express," I somehow managed to say.

She gave a dramatic sigh, but I could see her giving an understanding smile. "Well, the last thing I want to do is keep someone at work overtime, especially if they don't work for me."

He rolled his eyes. "I promise to be in bright and early Monday morning, Boss Lady."

"I doubt that," Gaby smirked. "Alright, you pass my judgment. Go rescue a damsel in distress. I'll see you both Monday."

I was at a loss for words as Gaby disappeared through the doorway. My eyes finally fell back to Baltor, who was giving me a pointed look. "Would you like to continue your little tirade about me being an imposter?"

I shook my head in disbelief. "How do you know Anna's check engine light is on in her car?"

"Because you told me two weeks ago, and knowing Anna, she still hasn't done anything about it." His look went from slightly sarcastic to serious as he glanced me over. "Bloom? Are you alright?"

"That depends. Am I still standing?"

"For now." Before I could argue, his hands were on my shoulders, guiding me to a bench. "Sit down; I haven't seen you look this pale in years."

Numbly, I sat down, letting him take the space next to me without complaint. He tried to take one of my hands, but I pulled away wordlessly. I saw him sigh quietly, but he didn't reach for my hand again. "Tell me what you're thinking," he finally said.

I looked at him. "Who _are _you? Are you Baltor, or Thomas...?"

He sighed. "I'm... both, I suppose. Obviously, I didn't grow up as Thomas Crowell, but his memories are in my mind as though I lived them. But at the same time... I remember you. I remember everything we've ever been through; both here and in the magical dimension."

The comment did nothing to ease the dizziness in my head. "Can... can he ever come back? The real Thomas?"

"No." He said it so simply it was surprising. "Thomas Crowell died in that fire four years ago. There's no simple way around that. For all intents and purposes, I am him now. While I do have his physical body and a few of his leftover traits, I'm afraid that's all that remains of him. Which means," he continued, watching me intently, "the person you're in love with is far more similar to me than Thomas."

An icy cold feeling trickled down my spine. "No," I insisted, starting to shake my head. "No, you are crazy if you think I'm in love with you. In fact, I don't even know why I'm still here." I got to my feet and started walking, not even paying attention to the fact that the parking lot was the opposite direction. I'd walk home if I had to - in my heels. Anything was better than having this conversation.

"Bloom, wait," he called. I could lie and say I stopped because my feet were killing me, but it wasn't just that. I didn't turn around, though; I still had some pride left. "I shouldn't have said that. I can only imagine how much of a shock this is to you-"

"You think?" I gave in and turned around to face him, eyes burning with anger. "The man I've spent the last three months with, the first person I've really let into my life since coming back to Earth, turned out to be someone I thought I'd left behind in another life. Why would I ever be in shock?" Unbidden, my voice grew somewhat softer as I continued, "Maybe I was in love with Thomas Crowell, or I could've been. But now I'll never know, because he wasn't real."

For maybe the first time ever, Baltor looked speechless. I sighed, suddenly feeling tired for a reason I couldn't discern. I was so done with this conversation. "I'm not going to turn you over to the Magix Council, even though I know they'd love to know you're somehow alive. I left that part of my life behind four years ago. So I hope you have a nice life, Baltor. But whatever you do, it's not going to involve me." Feeling like an enormous burden had been lifted off my shoulders, I turned and headed in the direction of the parking lot.

From behind me, I heard a chuckle of disbelief. "So that's it, huh?"

"Yes, that's it! I put you in the back of my mind _years_ ago, Baltor! There's no reason to move those memories now!"

"Oh, really?" I was able to go another five feet before he was at my back again, pulling me against him, leaning down to whisper into the shell of my ear. "I don't believe you," he said, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down my spine. Or maybe it was just the cold. Let's say it was the cold. "Your voice says one story, but your body is telling another. And last I checked, this kind of ink was permanent."

My heart stopped. _My tattoo_. "I... um..." _There really is no way out of this one, is there?_

I felt his fingers brush the back of my neck, as he carefully lifted my hair and gathered it on the other side of my neck, leaving free the side where I knew my tattoo could be seen in all its incriminating glory. "Now _this_ was quite a blast from the past," he commented, moving to face me again. "There's more to this story, Bloom, and I'm not letting you go until I get it."

Something snapped inside of me. "Because that's what you do, isn't it, Baltor? You take and take until there's nothing left for anyone to give. _This _is why I can't do this anymore. You're never going to be the guy I thought you were, regardless of the fact you're here now. So will you please just get out of my life already?"

My chest heaved with exertion - I hadn't realized I'd nearly screamed the last part - as the cold night air suddenly hit me like a slap in the face. I rubbed my hands along my arms, trying in vain to keep warm and wondering, not for the first time, why I was still standing in the parking lot, talking to him.

There was something different about the look in his eyes, something I couldn't quite name; they were undeniably gold now, and I'd forgotten how difficult it could be to read emotions out of that particular hue. "I don't think you mean what you're saying," he said, in a maddeningly calm voice.

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Well I'm sorry then; when did you become such an expert in reading my emotions? Nobody sent me a notification."

"It's not that I'm an expert," he said slowly. "It's that you're making it too clear."

"Making _what_ clear?"

"Come on, Bloom, if you can't see it why should I tell you?"

If I'd felt like something snapped before, it was now in a few million pieces. "There is _nothing_ to see! God, what do you want; just to sit here with that cocky grin on your face and wait for me to tell you how I was hopelessly in love-" At that, my brain finally caught up to my mouth and I stopped short, clamping a hand over my mouth, utterly mortified at what I'd just all but admitted.

I don't know what I expected; anger, sarcasm, maybe even laughter. Either way, I expected it wouldn't be good. But instead, it was eerily silent. Hesitantly, I glanced up, wondering for a moment if Baltor had truly reverted to his old ways and left me alone in front of the restaurant. To my surprise he was still standing here, looking at me in what seemed best described as wonderstruck. "What did you just say?"

My cheeks burned. "Are you _really_ that stupid, or do you just like making me squirm? Do you want me to stand here and admit I had feelings for you four years ago? Do you want me to admit that that's why I got your stupid mark tattooed on the back of my neck? Do you want me to admit that I couldn't forget you, no matter how hard I tried? Because if that's the case, then _congratulations_; you've finally won."

He slowly shook his head. "You... you're not serious-"

"Why would I _not_ be serious?" I yelled. After a moment, I took a deep breath, bracing myself for the worst. "You got what you wanted, now leave me alone. If I'd wanted to become a complete joke, there are much better ways I could've done it."

I was expecting a biting response, but when a moment passed and he was silent, I exhaled and turned on my heel, heading back towards the parking lot. I'd lost quite a bit of dignity (damn my stupid mouth!), but I still had _some_ pride; any more of this conversation would just be masochism.

But again, I only made it about five steps before fingers curled around my arm and pulled me backwards. "What now, Baltor?" I exclaimed exasperatedly, trying to yank myself free, but he held tight with a surprising strength. I looked up to his eyes, which were bright and full of something that looked a lot like... determination? "Are you really intent on shattering any last fragment of dignity I might have le-"

He swallowed up the sound with his lips on mine and any thoughts of going anywhere left my head entirely.

Kissing him felt at once familiar and foreign. My body _remembered_ Thomas, the shape and feel of him, the scent of his skin and hair, despite the fact that my mind now knew that the man I had been falling for wasn't real. And at the same time, I could tell there was something different about him: the tightness of his grip on my waist, the urgency with which his lips moved against my own, like he was finally getting something he'd wanted for so long and wasn't sure if it was real. Or maybe that part was me projecting my own feelings onto him.

I was breathing heavily when we finally parted, my head spinning like a Tilt-a-Whirl, so that I had to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths of cold night air before I felt normal again. When I opened my eyes, I saw him staring at me, a look of amused satisfaction dancing in those gold eyes.

Something sparked to life inside of me, and without thinking twice, I reached up and slapped him across the face.

"Ow!" he yelped, bringing a hand up to his cheek, where I was pleased to see I had left a nice red handprint. "What the hell was that for?"

"What do you _think_ that was for?" I snapped. "What is your problem? Do you get some kind of perverse pleasure from tearing my heart out? Why can't you just _let me go?_"

He went from looking pained to shocked. "Hold on a minute... you think I did that as a _joke_?"

"You expect me to believe you didn't?" I felt a varying degree of emotions: anger, sadness, disbelief... But mostly, I was just tired. "You've gotten everything you've wanted, so can you please just leave me alone?"

"Bloom wait," he said as I turned to leave (how many times _had_ I tried to leave this place tonight?).

"There's nothing left to wait for," I replied dryly. "Unless you're going to tell me Gaby is actually Icy."

"Yes there is," he said. "You think this is a joke. That I'm just toying with your feelings." I didn't respond to the comments, and he kept talking. "Well I'm telling you I'm not."

"Yeah right-"

"Bloom, look at me." He took my chin in his hand and directed my face towards his. "I am not lying to you. I don't think it's ridiculous that you had feelings for me, and I don't blame you for being upset about this."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, I expect you to believe that." He let go of me and rubbed his temples, probably trying to fight off a headache (I only assumed because I could feel one coming on, too).

Part of my head told me to make a mad dash for the car while I had the chance - he obviously wasn't paying too much attention me. I could go home, change the locks, and get Musa to stand guard with me until late next week (it seemed like Baltor's powers either couldn't exist within Thomas's body, or it would take time for them to return). But for some reason, I couldn't turn away. He seemed intently focused on figuring something out, and I was a bit curious as to what it was.

And finally: "There were dreams."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what are you referring to-"

"_I _had dreams," he said again, his eyes not meeting mine. "About you."

I could only stare at him dumbly as he kept talking. "Not from the old days - those are far too gone for me to even remember. But ever since I woke up as Thomas Crowell in a New York City hospital, I would have these dreams; crazy vivid things that sometimes felt so real I would swear I had lived them, even when I knew it was impossible. I dreamed about fantastic worlds, buildings that seemed structurally impossible, people flying, _magic_. And in every one of them there was a girl, with red hair and blue eyes." I felt my jaw drop, and even though a voice in the back of my head was yelling at me to run while he seemed somewhat distracted, I couldn't move. "You were real to me before "Thomas" ever knew your name, though the dreams never gave me that particular piece of information. It took me forever to settle on Rachel later, and even that never felt quite right; nothing ever seemed to fit the stubborn, impulsive redhead from my dreams. Like I knew your name but just couldn't access it."

I heard the words, but I was having trouble processing them. _He can't be telling the truth... Can he?_

"I certainly didn't intend to write a book at first," he continued, looking somewhat nervous. "I just started sketching, and eventually writing, because I didn't want to lose the dreams; I didn't want to lose _you_. A friend found the journal I'd been writing in and assumed that I was writing a book, and I went with that to avoid admitting the truth: that I was falling in love with the girl from my dreams." He finally looked up at me, his gaze more serious than I'd ever seen from him. "Imagine my surprise when I move here and find out she's real."

There was an awkward silence, until I realized he was expecting me to say something. "I... I don't know what to say," I stammered weakly.

He took a step forward, eyes blazing with determination. "Say you believe me."

"I... I don't know what I believe!" I exclaimed, taking a step back instinctively. "This is all so much... How am I supposed to trust that you're telling the truth? We were _mortal enemies_, Baltor! You might not remember those days, but I do!"

"I remember," he said seriously. "I remember _you_. Whatever miracle gave me a second chance at life, whatever magic erased my memories of who I was, it couldn't make me forget you, or what I felt for you. Why is it so hard for you to believe that?"

"Because..." I looked at him for a moment, and then shut my eyes tightly. "I've spent the last three months trying to convince myself that you were dead. Hell, I've spent the last four _years_ trying to convince myself of that. I've pushed away so many people, and just when I finally start to get a normal life, here you are. Everything I've been dreaming of but never admitting I wanted. But there's still that voice in the back of my head, reminding me what happened the last time I let myself acknowledge my feelings for you."

I heard a small sigh. "You think I'm going to vanish again. Or worse - turn against you."

Slowly, I nodded.

"Bloom." I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him before I realized what I was doing. "I don't blame you for thinking that. But what you can't deny thinking, is the other side of this." He gave a small smile. "I have no idea how I got here; maybe it was a person, maybe it was fate. But either way, we have a second chance here, away from Magix, your friends, the Trix... and we'd be fools not to take it.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear in an eerily familiar way. "I promise you. So... what about that second chance?"

A small smile crossed my face. "Technically, this is still the first chance."

He smirked at me. "I didn't fall in love with you for being technical, darling."

I tried to keep myself from smiling at the comment. The sincerity in his voice... I knew that wasn't something a person could fake. At that moment I finally let the last defensive wall I had left crumble, because it wasn't worth it anymore. And what _was_ worth it was standing in front of me.

I wound my arms around his neck. "So... does this mean I can kiss you now? After all, we have a lot of time to make up for."

I managed to catch a glimpse of the grin that spread across his face, before I reached up and pressed my lips to his.

Despite the fact that I'd kissed him innumerable times as Thomas, and even just a few minutes ago, it felt like our first kiss all over again. There was a new sweetness to this one, that came from knowing exactly who I was kissing and that he wanted to be kissing me just as much. I ran my fingers through his hair, like I'd wanted to do for so long, and what did it matter that it was dark brown instead of red-blond? He might have a different physical appearance, but the inside was still the same; the same man I had fallen hopelessly in love with in spite of knowing how wrong it was.

After close to five years, I was finally getting my happy ending.

"_Bloom_." He was saying my name like a prayer, his arms coming up to rest against my back, pulling me close like he never wanted to let me go. I could understand the feeling. "Am I dreaming? This doesn't feel real, you being here."

I smiled, then pinched his arm.

"Ow!" he yelped. "Will you stop hurting me?"

"No," I said seriously, though I had to fight to keep a grin off my face. "Because I'm really here. And you have to love all of me, even the parts that annoy you."

"Well then same goes for you," he said, sliding an arm around my waist.

"I think I can handle that." I closed my eyes as he kissed me again, the feeling sending tingles throughout every part of my body.

"Let's get out of here," I said when he pulled back. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting kind of sick of this place. _Especially_ the parking lot."

"Agreed. We are definitely not coming here for our first date."

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like a maniac. _Our first date_. Because we were a couple, who could do normal things like go on dinner dates or to the movies without anyone making a big deal out of it.

_And do other couple-y things..._

The thought lodged itself in my head and refused to go away. As nice as all the kissing was, I wasn't seventeen anymore.

He caught my gaze, and I felt a familiar tingle on the back of my neck as I saw the same look in his eyes that I knew had to be in my own. Maybe it was our connection coming back, or maybe it was just us; it didn't matter much to me either way right now. "My place isn't far, and there are no pesky roommates around..." He trailed off suggestively.

"Sounds perfect." I slid my hand into his, interlocking our fingers. "Lead the way."

* * *

**So are we forgiven?**

**Yes, the big Valentine's Day update is here, and with that we _finally_ get Baltor back! Don't lie; you missed him.**

**Sorry about this being so late; I'm actually updating in the midst of a Southern California college trip (ugh, college, why are you not years away?). There's been insanity galore, and there's only an hour left of Valentine's Day, so I won't stay too long. I hope everyone has a wonderful day, and that this update has only made it better.**

**Much love,**

**~ember & Authoress**


	12. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11_

It had been a long time since I'd woken up beside another person, and when I came to on Monday morning, I didn't open my eyes at first, wanting to preserve the moment as long as possible. My face was pressed against his neck, our legs tangled; his arms wrapped around my waist, one of my hands curled up to his chest, the other in his hair. I could feel his chest rising and falling with the slow, constant breaths of sleep, the heat of his body radiating out like a second sun. A deep sense of contentment washed over me, and without thinking I started sliding my fingers through his hair.

"Mmm..." Baltor stretched, moving his head against my hand like a cat being pet, and I let out a tiny giggle. He blinked a few times, slowly opening his eyes and staring at me with a sleepy, satisfied look that turned my insides to Jell-O. "Morning, beautiful," he murmured, before reaching over the last couple inches of space between us and kissing me, long and sweet.

I sighed happily, sliding my arms up around his neck as we rolled over, him pinning me down against the mattress, our lips never parting. My body felt like a live wire, every nerve sizzling like a firework waiting to explode. Everything with Baltor was just so much more _intense_ than anything I'd ever felt before; sometimes, I still had to pinch myself to make sure this wasn't a dream.

After several dizzying kisses, though, he pulled back, gold eyes shining in the light of the morning sun peeking through the curtains. I let out a small whine of displeasure, trying to pull him back down, but he shook his head, glancing at the clock before staring down at me. "You do realize it's Monday, right? And that we have to be at work... hmm, twenty minutes ago?"

My eyes briefly widened (_crap_!), but almost as quickly, I realized that I didn't really care. "Let's just call in sick," I said impulsively, sitting up against the pillows on the back of the bed. "Come on, I am so not ready to go back to the real world yet."

Since making up (and making _out_) with him in the parking lot of Ronan's, I'd pretty much spent every hour since, waking and sleeping, at his apartment. Venturing out only for food, we spent a lot of our time in bed, yes, but also just talking and getting to know each other in a different way than we had as Bloom and Thomas. And while I admit I hadn't been prepared for it at first, I was already so comfortable with it I didn't notice.

I snapped out of my thoughts as Baltor planted a soft kiss on my cheek. "I doubt Gaby would fall for it, considering how we behaved back at the restaurant... but I'll text her and she can roll her eyes at us tomorrow. But I'm warning you that I will have to take some time today and do some editing."

"Oh come on, that's no fun. I might as well just have gone in then."

"Tough," he smirked, finally rising out of bed and heading for the closet. "I know I have my memory back now, but that doesn't mean I can drop everything here. That novel's set to be released in two months, and unless you want a boyfriend living on the street, I'll need that royalty check."

I fell back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. "You really care about getting that thing published?"

"I do. I feel like it would be a nice memento of Thomas. Besides, I'm sure there's a hard copy around here somewhere, if you feel like reading more of it."

A smirk appeared on my face. "Well there's no point anymore; I know what happens."

There was a slight chuckle. "Oh, you never know... it is a work of fiction after all." He came back over and sat down next to me on the bed, now wearing boxers and a green T-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes even more intensely.

I sat up and leaned towards him, watching his eyes follow the curves of my body as the sheet slipped down. "I know I get my Valentine. The rest is unimportant." Closing my eyes, I tilted my head to meet his lips in a kiss that I felt in every cell of my body.

My head was spinning with the familiar rush of desire that always accompanied Baltor's kisses, but just as I lifted my arms to twine around his neck and pull him back down onto the bed, he pulled back, giving me a pointed look. "Maybe you think so, but I doubt anyone else would feel the same. Now come on, get up, and I'll make you pancakes." With that, he turned around and headed out the bedroom door. I gave an audible groan, so he wouldn't think I'd given in, but gathered the sheets around my body and slid towards the end of the bed.

A few minutes later, wearing one of his button-down shirts over my bra and panties, I padded out into the kitchen/living room and took a seat at one of the bar stools set up in front of the counter, watching as he stirred a bowl of pancake batter. Propping my head up on my hands, I watched him as he worked, the late-morning sunlight coming through the window and providing all the light necessary to see by.

I could get used to this. I could very easily get used to this.

"Do you want blueberries or chocolate chips?" he asked, looking up at me for a moment. I was struck by the sheer volume of expression in his eyes, even when he was doing something as simple as cooking. I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed those otherworldly eyes until they were back. But I refrained from commenting, knowing it would only lead to him teasing me about it again.

"You really have to ask?"

He chuckled. "Chocolate chips it is, then. You do realize you're not seventeen, anymore, Bloom? Fruit isn't going to kill you, you know."

"Haven't you ever heard how rude it is to comment on a lady's age?" I stuck my tongue out at him playfully, and he leaned over the counter to give me a quick kiss, before turning his attention back to the pancakes. It had been an enormous surprise to learn that he knew how to cook; I still wasn't sure if that was something leftover from Thomas Crowell, but that was another subject I didn't dare broach.

"You know what I find interesting," Baltor remarked absently, reaching into a nearby drawer for what I assumed was a spatula. "As far as I can tell, my physical powers - casting spells, throwing fireballs and the sort - haven't returned."

I shrugged. "Well, I'm sure they'll come back with time."

"Oh, I know they will. Mostly because despite everything, our Dragon Fire connection hasn't been severed. I almost forgot what was it was like to feel the emotions of others." What he was saying caught up to me, and I blushed as he chuckled. "Now what exactly is this 'unspeakable topic' in your head?"

I bit my lip. "It's nothing, really..."

"Wonderful. So you can tell me."

When it became clear he wasn't letting this go, I sighed. "Alright, alright. Some of your... physical features changed when your soul was put into Thomas's body. And I was just wondering how many of Thomas's features will stay?"

He paused for a moment, thoughtful. "Well, I suppose a few will change; eye color, obviously, personal quirks..."

"What about... hair color?"

Baltor raised an eyebrow at me. "That's what this is about? Now that you know it's really me, you aren't a fan of brunettes?"

I blushed. "I never said that!"

"Your face says it all, my dear," he smirked, obviously trying to hide a laugh. "Though I suppose the style is a bit... different than what I'm used to, I'm sure it'll grow out. But as for the hair color, unless I want to resort to dying it..."

"Or using less conventional methods."

This time, Baltor didn't even try to hide his laugh. "Bloom, are you asking if I want you to _spell_ _my hair_?"

"No!" I said immediately, doing my best to backtrack. "I just... I wasn't sure about it. And I didn't know if now that you remember everything, that was something you wanted to change."

"And would this change be for me or for you?" He smirked at my lack of response, and glanced at his reflection in the window. "I'll admit it is a bit different than what I'm used to, and without my powers there's little I can do personally; I'd rather not spend ridiculous amounts of money on those... what do you call them again? You put them in your hair to make it longer?"

"Extensions," I smiled. "You could always use the money you won from that office bet about us getting together."

"Of course; pin me for something I couldn't consciously control." He moved the pan and turned the burner off. "If it bothers you that much Bloom, and you can promise my hair won't turn bright pink, you can change it to your heart's content."

I pondered this for a moment, my fingers already twitching with pent-up magic. "And you promise you wouldn't be mad?"

"I promise. Honestly; have I ever lied to you?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Well..."

He shook his head. "On second thought, don't answer that. But that doesn't change that if it bothers you that much, you have my complete permission to change it."

I smiled. "What a noble sacrifice."

"I try. So... what exactly does a hair spell entail? Because oddly enough, I never did come across one in all the major spell books from the realms..." He paused when he saw the look on my face. "What?"

"Just you asking what goes into a hair spell. Really, you don't have to do much; you don't even feel anything when it happens..."

He stared at me for a moment, and his eyes widened. "Bloom. You did not..."

Baltor reached for the back of his neck, and stopped when his hand brushed his ponytail. He glanced back at the window reflection to confirm what he already knew, and then smirked. "Who knew blond was actually your type?"

A slight smile played across the corners of my mouth. "Why are you so surprised? I fell for you, didn't I?"

He grinned, setting a plate of pancakes down in front of me. "You sure you didn't just want me to look more like the other great love of your life?" To my blank stare, he elaborated, "His Royal Highness, Prince of Stupidity?"

It took me a second and then I laughed, long and hard, until my sides were aching with the effort. I couldn't remember the last time I had laughed that much - and it wasn't even that the joke had been all that funny.

It was just Baltor.

"No," I said finally, when I could speak again, climbing down off the barstool and taking a few steps towards him (and really, a few steps was all that was necessary - this kitchen was _tiny_). "I can promise with one hundred percent certainty that I had not thought about Sky for a single second until you just brought him up."

"Well that's sure good to know," he said, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. Shivers raced down my spine. "After all, how could I ever hope to compete with a prince?"

"Trust me," I said, winding my arms around his neck and pressing myself against him. "You have very many other redeeming qualities." My eyes fluttered shut as our lips met.

"Your pancakes are getting cold," he pointed out when we finally broke for air.

"I don't care."

"Good."

* * *

_The more he thought about it, the more Valentine realized how big of a setback those 'Infinite Eye' spells from Prospit were._

_ Yes, the ability to see his enemies plotting his so-called demise was useful, but ultimately boring. Their plans were predictable and, even if successful, would do little to stop him. He also couldn't manipulate the spells to see into books or pass magical barriers, which was a bit annoying (it would certainly have taken the messy work out of breaking into some of the magic archives). In fact, there was only way in which the spell had proven to be useful, and it seemed to be efficiently cutting into Valentine's free time._

_ He really should get around to giving Rachel the protection spell that blocked the Infinite Eye. It would save him so much time._

_ It wasn't as though he _meant_ to stare at her for half the day. Most of the time Valentine just wanted to make sure that annoying prince was staying as far away from her as possible (he also had to start thinking of a way to explain that away if Rachel ever asked; but that could wait a little while longer). But once he caught sight of her... he couldn't help but watch her. Really, it was her fault for being so damn beautiful. And it wasn't as if he spent his _whole_ day watching her._

_ "Valentine!"_

_ At least, not with interruptions like Krystal._

_ He quickly snapped off the spell as the headstrong girl rounded the corner into the cavern (they'd resorted to hiding in the caves of the Alternian mountains near the schools), Maeve and Audra at her side. "We need to talk."_

_ "So talk." he said, somewhat impatiently. "I'm busy."_

_ The smoke of the spell still lingered in the air, and Krystal stared at it with a critical eye. "What exactly are you busy with?"_

_ Out of the three girls, Valentine knew Krystal was the most likely to catch on to his relationship with Rachel. The ice witch watched her almost as much as Valentine did, the only difference being the reason for doing so. Though it had only been a few weeks, and he'd been extremely careful, he couldn't help but feel Krystal was getting suspicious._

_ "Taking a look at the so-called battle plans Gemma has to deal with me after I 'controlled' their dear princess and ruined their credibility. It's amusing really, if you'd like a look."_

_ Krystal sighed dramatically, leaning back against the wall. "That's exactly the problem here, Valentine."_

_ He raised an eyebrow. "Gemma's plans?"_

_ "Gemma's plans to deal with _you_," Audra said as if it were obvious._

_ "It seems like this revenge plot has because a whole lot less of _us_ and a whole lot more of _you_," added Maeve._

_ "It feels like we aren't in this together anymore." Krystal said. "What happened to making this universe pay for what it did to us? Getting revenge on the planets that sent you to Alpha? And making Rachel and her stupid friends pay for what they did?"_

_ "They will pay," Valentine said eventually, noting the change in Krystal's attitude. _She couldn't possibly have figured it out so soon... could she?_ "We have the power we need. The key at this moment is patience, my dear. When they least expect it, we're going to raise Hell and burn them to the ground."_

_ She stared at him for a moment, a sickly sweet smile spreading across her face. "We were hoping you'd say that."_

_ He drummed his fingers against the arm of the arm of the chair in a desperate attempt to channel his nervous energy. "And why is that?"_

_ "While you were off in your own little world," Maeve said, smirking triumphantly, "_we_ came up with a plan."_

_ "...I see." Valentine glanced between the girls, taking note of their smirks. "And you said I wasn't being a team player. Perhaps the pot really does call the kettle black."_

_ Krystal laughed. "You worry too much, Valentine. We just had to make sure the four of us were still in this together. It'd be a shame to come so far only to have our teamwork wasted, don't you think?"_

_ "I do," he agreed. "Which brings me back to my original thought; what exactly is this plan of yours?"_

_ "One that will get rid of our little Rachel problem. _Permanently_."_

_ His fingers stopped tapping. Valentine tried his best to keep his face neutral. "What exactly did you have in mind?"_

_ "The key at this moment is patience, Valentine." Krystal mocked. "But, let's say this plan called for spells from Midnight Solar Stars. I would find them where exactly...?"_

_ Valentine debated leading them on a wild goose chase through the caverns, but after a moment realized it would only make him look suspicious. Right now his top priority was gaining back the trust that had begun to fade. Because in all honesty, not much had changed. Valentine still wanted revenge; just no longer against Rachel._

"_...The northwest cavern, on the left hand side."_

_ Krystal smirked. "You're an angel, Valentine." With that, she turned and walked out of the room, her friends following._

_ After a few moments, Valentine wearily re-summoned the Infinite Eye. It jumped back to its former position on Rachel, who was sitting in class while absently drawing in the margin of her notebook. She looked to be perfectly at ease._

_ It now seemed that he really did need to get around to giving her protection spells._

* * *

"Good book?"

I tore my eyes away from the much-abused pages to see Baltor leaning against the doorway. His gaze sent tingles running over my skin.

"How long have you been there?" I asked, setting the manuscript aside.

"Not long," he said, crossing the space between the door and the bed in a couple long strides, dropping down next to me. "You're cute when you're focusing on something."

"I thought I was cute all the time," I teased, leaning over for a kiss.

"Mmm... that you are," he agreed when we parted. He shifted, trying to move closer to me, but the crunching sound of paper made us both stop.

"Oops." I reached for the pages. "Let's get these out of the way..."

But he caught my wrist before I could drop them on the nightstand. "What part were you reading?" he asked, taking the manuscript out of my hand before I could even respond. His eyes flicked over the last page, and I could see when something shifted in his expression. "You're not far from the end," he said finally, handing it back to me.

I took it from him, a cold feeling of uncertainty growing in the pit of my stomach. For a moment, I debated not even mentioning it, but since he'd already killed the mood, I figured I might as well ask while it was still on my mind. "I was just thinking... Before, you said this was a work of fiction." I bit my lip. "So... how much is fiction?"

Baltor stared at me for a moment, but it wasn't long before I saw him connect the dots. "You want to know if I still want revenge. On the remaining members of the Company of Light and the planets that locked me up." I didn't respond, and he sighed. "Valentine has his priorities messed up right now. And that's why it's a book; you read to follow the story and watch the protagonist change - which he will. But let me be perfectly clear on one thing." He closed his hand around one of my own, giving it a small squeeze. "_I am not Valentine_. Not anymore."

The intensity of his stare made me want to look away, but he caught my chin as I tried to. "I'm not proud now of the things I did then. But I can promise you that I've learned from my mistakes. Everything that happened all those years ago... it's in the past, and it's never coming back. _You _are my world now, and you're more important to me than anything else."

My heart fluttered in my chest. "I-I... I don't know what to say."

He smiled a little. "How about you say you'll go to dinner with me tonight? We've barely been out of here the last two days, and it would be nice to have a formal dinner without being interrupted for once."

I smirked. "Ellis wasn't _that_ bad."

"Yes, I'm sure he's a wonderful person, but it isn't nearly as wonderful when he's interrupting our first date."

That comment caused me to laugh. "Yes, Ellis is good at interrupting first dates."

"So what do you say? Dinner tonight?"

I kissed his cheek. "It sounds wonderful. But I'm afraid I have a condition. The only outfit I have here is that purple dress, which is probably too fancy for anywhere you had in mind."

"Well that's the wonder of magic, darling. Honestly, I'd be surprised if you didn't learn a quick-change spell after three years of living with Stella."

"She knew more of them than I ever thought existed..." I remarked absently, snapping my fingers. A black tank, green mesh top, jeans, and brown ankle boots replaced the dress shirt, and my hair twisted itself into a knot on my head. My tattoo was visible through the transparent shirt, but for obvious reasons that didn't bother me too much anymore. "Just promise to save room for dessert. I know the perfect place to get it afterwards."

* * *

It was freezing by the time we pulled up in front of my house - freezing and dark, the sky lit up with thousands of twinkling stars. I pulled my jacket (actually, Baltor's jacket, since I'd forgotten to poof one in) tighter around my body, fumbling through my purse for my key. "I hope we're not out of hot chocolate; I could really use one right now," I said to myself, digging through piles of random crap that I really needed to clean out when I had time.

Finally I found the key, and quickly shoved it into the lock. "Do you want one too?" I asked, stepping over the threshold.

It took me a minute to realize he hadn't followed me inside.

"What's with the hesitation?"

"I... wouldn't want to make Anna uncomfortable." I opened my mouth, but he shook his head. "It's fine, it's fine. It's not like we haven't spent enough time together. I'll see you tomorrow at work."

After giving me a soft, chaste kiss, he started to turn around, but I grabbed his arm before he could get too far. I could see the question in his eyes, and it was a struggle to keep my face neutral as I told him, "Anna went to visit her family this weekend."

A devilish smirk lit up his face, and I couldn't hold back my grin. "Well in that case..." In what seemed to be one fluid move, he crossed the distance over the doorway, shut the door behind him, and pulled me against him for a kiss that sent waves of heat throughout my entire body. Giggling slightly, I wound my arms around his neck, carefully stepping backwards as I tried to lead us through the living room to my bedroom without having to break the kiss.

"Ahem."

I almost didn't hear the sound at first, wrapped up in my own little world, but Baltor did. He jumped away from me and shot out a hand; one that quickly recoiled when he remembered he had no magic to use. I had to stare for a moment to recognize the woman on the couch, because despite her hair being shorter and her eyes a different color, she did look a little bit like Anna.

"Musa," I sighed, nervously pushing my bangs behind my ear. "You scared us."

"I can see that," my friend replied, drumming her fingers against the arm of the couch. She looked calm, but I saw her eyes raking over Baltor nervously. I cursed myself for changing his hair color; why couldn't I just be happy the way things were? He looked equally shocked to see her, like he didn't know whether to stay and fight her or get a head start running for Mexico. "I was coming to see how things went with your boyfriend after that party. I guess it's safe to assume it went... well."

Baltor's brain finally seemed to click on, and he put on a smile I'd seen him use to deal with co-workers he secretly despised. He offered a hand to Musa. "You must be one of Bloom's high school roommates; she was telling me she'd started getting back in touch recently. I'm Thomas Crowell." The words seemed odd coming out of his mouth now.

Musa shook his hand with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Nice to meet you Thomas. I'm Musa. You'll have to apologize for my intrusion; I called Bloom's roommate ahead of time and she left a key for me."

"You called _Anna_?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"I was worried about you. Apparently you didn't come home Friday night, and Gaby had called her asking how her car was coming along and... I'm sorry, Thomas, but you look incredibly familiar to me."

My eyes widened. "Musa."

She took no notice of me. I recognized that look on her face; Musa was good at manipulating people into telling her what she wanted. She'd had years of practice on Riven, and she'd caught Baltor off guard. "I do believe I've seen you before," she insisted. "You didn't happen to attend Juilliard, did you?"

I knew for a fact that was the only Earth college Musa could name; she'd heard it during one our corny romance movie marathons in the dorms. Luckily, Baltor seemed ready for her. "I didn't, actually. But I attended NYU, so that puts us in the same place. Perhaps you attended one of the events we had for the Manhattan College Student Program?"

To my knowledge, no such program existed (Anna had gone to school in New York at Columbia), but I knew the two were far too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to me. They were waiting for the other person to slip up, and for the life of me I couldn't look away.

Musa was smirking a bit. "Yes, that must be it. Though I feel like I didn't see you alone. Maybe... with a group of girls? I feel like one of them had ridiculously frizzy hair."

"Musa," I warned again.

Baltor forced a cold grin. "And who would I have seen you with? A boyfriend, perhaps?"

"Doubtful. My boyfriend at the time didn't attend Juilliard, nor did he have any musical abilities. He was more of a... jock, I suppose. One of those people who'd look up summaries instead of reading the book. Though I hope that doesn't bother you," she gave an overly-polite grin. "Bloom told me you're an English major."

"Well it's not like anyone can expect a Specialist to know how to read, especially a 'jock', as you phrased it."

Musa's eyebrows rose. My heart dropped.

Baltor caught on a moment too late. "I-I mean... of course I-"

The black-haired girl stared at him, incredulous. "So you're alive after all."

My mind was racing, trying to come up with a way to cover everything up, even though I knew it was pointless. "Musa-"

"Save it," she responded, her eyes finally falling to me. "Bloom, you've got a _lot_ of explaining to do."

* * *

**And you thought we weren't coming back...**

**It's been a month, but it's finally here! Yes, this chapter has taken a _ridiculously_ long time to go up; sorry about that. School is not fun, and one of the most abundant abilities Authoress and I possess is the ability to get writers block. But no more! We are pleased to announce this story had a solid plot from now to the end chapter! So fear not! Authoress had the exact stats, but there should be about six chapters left in the story.**

**On that note, what are your thoughts? Baltor's obviously got his work cut out for him, especially since one of the Winx girls has a clue he's here (And don't worry; we'll see Musa in the next chapter!). Questions, comments, and concerns will also be addressed by either Authoress or I, and as I've stated we don't bite! And the best way to ask them is through reviews! *Hint, hint***

**Have a great spring break (But do _not_ go see Spring Breakers, because it _sucked_!)! Much love,**

**~ ember&Authoress**


	13. Chapter 12

_Chapter 12_

There was a moment, right after waking up, when my memory of the past twelve hours was a complete blank. All I remembered was that Baltor and I were together, and that filled me with such joy that I automatically looked over, assuming I'd see him in bed next to me.

But he wasn't there, and that's when my memory decided to conveniently fill in the rest of the story.

I suddenly had a deep-rooted urge to pull the covers over my head and never get out of bed.

_Maybe if I just act like there's no problem, it will go away? Maybe...?_

But this particular problem had never been very good at taking hints; I could hear the sounds of movement from the other room, telling me she was already awake. So with a sigh, I slid out of bed and headed out to the kitchen/living room.

At first, the sight of Musa sprawled out on the couch, her hair in a messy ponytail slung over the side and a laptop on her stomach, gave me pleasant, nostalgia-type feelings for our days at Alfea. But then I realized that that was _my_ laptop she was looking at._ Yeah, not so great..._

Carefully, I came up behind her, trying not to call attention to myself. I hadn't needed to worry - she was so engrossed in whatever she'd found, it was like she was numb to the rest of the world. My eyes quickly scanned over the screen, familiar words jumping out at me instantly and sending white-hot darts of fear and anxiety through my veins.

_Of course, she had to find that. Because I just can't catch a break._

Though it was a scene I'd read before, I found myself following along anyways, unable to look away from what I knew was going to seal my fate.

* * *

_People always said revenge was a dish best served cold. Valentine agreed wholeheartedly with that idea, but there were certain times where he felt going a step beyond was not only expected, but necessary. So in this case, revenge wasn't just a dish best served cold; it was served best painfully frozen_.

_And as for the recipient... well, it wasn't going to be pretty._

_ Headmistress Tamara Kingsley. God, the title itself was just _begging_ to be challenged, as far as Valentine was concerned. It did nothing to suit the woman who wore it, nor did she even deserve it. Miss Queen of Darkness turned light._

_He remembered the days when they were in training together. Dark magic with dark magic, combining into a force so powerful it couldn't dare be challenged. He and Tamara had been everything together; apprentices, sparring partners, friends... even more than friends on some occasions._

_They could've taken over the universe together. They could have _ruled _it, together._

_Had they?_

_Of course not. Because if there was one thing that hadn't been evenly distributed between them, it was loyalty. Namely, that Valentine held all of it and Tamara had none. Mere weeks before the battle that was supposed to change the course of history, Tamara had what he'd seen described as a 'change of heart'. 'Seeing the light for what it truly was.' 'Opening a new door.'_

_However it was phrased, it still spelled out the same thing to him: a betrayal._

_Attack plans were handed over, counterspells were given to dark magic, and hideouts were given away. At the end of it all, Tamara Kingsley had been hailed a hero, all charges against her dropped, and was given a nice little life running the most prestigious dark magic academy in the dimension._

_And Valentine had ended up in Alpha._

_Whoever said revenge wasn't necessary was a damn fool._

_x_

_After a lot of thought, Valentine figured the best way to get to Tamara was to attack her in a place that represented her new life, after her intense 'struggle' in the darkness. It was that thought process that led him to spend the better part of an afternoon sitting in her office, absently launching icicles into a nearby bookshelf and waiting for her to walk through the door. For a headmistress, she seemed to spend little time in her office._

_He was honestly about to give up on the endeavor and go find _her_ when she strolled into the office. And then, it was worth it to see the look of shock on her face. She had a drink in her hand that dropped and spilled across the cool stone floor. She stared at him and all the while he just smirked and continued to twist bits of silver magic around his fingertips. "Cat got your tongue, Kingsley?"_

_She shook her head in disbelief. "Valentine... no. They said people sent to Alpha usually never last more than a few years. Unless-"_

_ He sat up and looked her in the eye. "Oh, I'm not a ghost. I'm very real."_

_ "Impossible," she snapped. "You look exactly the same."_

_Had there been any previous feelings in the conversation, her words caused them to evaporate. A sickly sweet grin crossed Valentine's face, and the silver magic he'd been twisting formed into a solid ball of icy magic. "Well that's what seventeen years in a time-frozen prison will do to you. But I see the years have not been so kind to _you_. Have you considered investing in some anti-aging spells?"_

_The shock of seeing him finally disappeared from her face, replaced by rage. "Get out of my office."_

"_I have a better idea." He tossed the ball of energy at her, and watched as she tried to throw up a shield. Of course it didn't work, and the spell broke up into millions of slivers that cut both the shield and her skin. Blood trickled from her arm, staining the grey jacket she wore._

_Though her knees locked, Tamara remained standing. _"_Didn't they bind your powers in Alpha?_"_ she said through clenched teeth._

"_I've learned a few tricks since I escaped." He launched another spell, and this one sent her flying against the door. There was a sickly satisfying crunch as her arm twisted. "In fact, I'm probably professor material now. You should consider letting me guest lecture."_

"_You don't belong here, Valentine. You belong in Alpha."_

"_Correction; _we_ belong in Alpha." The fake smile melted off his face and he stood with a flourish, another ball of magic starting to form at his fingertips. "_We_ don't belong here. Do you remember the word 'we', Tamara? It's commonly used to refer to a group of people. People you trust with your life, and people who don't sell you out with a goddamned smile on their face."_

_She fired a spell back, but Valentine easily threw up a shield to deflect it. "Is that why you're here?" she asked. "To tell me I was wrong for betraying you? That I should be sorry?"_

"_Oh, I don't expect you to be sorry, Tamara. I expect you to _pay_."_

_There was a momentary pause - out of fear or realization, Valentine didn't know. But he also didn't care, because a second was all he needed to bypass her armor and hit her again. She tried to fight back, but the simple truth was that she was rusty and didn't have the resources Valentine now possessed. But he was almost disappointed at how little time it took to bring her down, and perhaps more than that the terrible condition she was left in. Bloodied clothes, the dark beginnings of bruises, and a shortness of breath that seemed nothing like the girl he remembered._

"_You're a shell of what you used to be," he said, finally allowing the spell in his hand to fade. She was lying on the ground and he was standing above him, ever the more powerful. "Honestly, I'm having a hard time believing you're Tamara Kingsley. She would never be this weak."_

_Somehow, she managed to narrow her eyes at him. "You failed at this plan once, Valentine. You'll fail again."_

"_Oh I wouldn't be so sure; 'every true visionary was vilified at one point for wanting to change the world.' Or so a wise woman once told me. Maybe you know her; she and I used to be quite close..."_

"_Your quips will get you nowhere. I know you blame me for what happened. But I will _never_ be sorry for it. You think we were going to change the world for the better? We would have destroyed it. I thank God every day I came to my senses and saw that before it was too late. And it was a miracle they even let me go-"_

"_Well of course they let you go!" he snapped. "You sold _me_ out, didn't you? The man behind the mask, set to 'destroy the world', as you so eloquently put it. You practically wrapped me up in a bow and dropped me in Alpha. All you had to do was insist that you'd been mislead, and still had the potential to rejoin the rest of society."_

_Tamara closed her eyes. "Are you going to kill me, Valentine?"_

_He shut his mouth tightly. "No, I'm not."_

_She opened her eyes and stared at him._

"_Luckily for you, I have a previous engagement. Otherwise this meeting would've been much longer and much more painful."_

"_Then why come at all?"_

"_To scare you." Valentine smirked. "To show you that you aren't invincible, sitting as the headmistress at the most pathetic excuse for a dark magic school I've ever seen. This is your first warning, and if a second one is needed, I can assure you it won't be pretty." He shot his hand out and created a portal. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really am late. Don't get up for me, really. I'll be fine."_

_He was just about to step through when he heard her voice. "I'm not scared of you anymore, you know."_

_Valentine paused for a moment and glanced back at her. "No. But you will be again."_

* * *

"You know, I know you're there."

Musa propped down the laptop screen and turned her head to stare at me. My cheeks burned as I stood up, walking towards the kitchen in an attempt to act like everything was normal.

"I'm making coffee. Want some?" I thought I'd probably need something stronger to get through the conversation I knew was coming, but seeing as it was only nine in the morning, coffee would have to suffice.

"Please."

Musa waited until we were both seated at the table, steaming mugs in hand, before starting in with, "So... you really do have a thing for guys with long hair, huh?"

I sighed, staring down into my coffee like it could tell the future. "I know I have a lot of explaining to do, but can I ask for one thing first?" She raised one eyebrow, silently prompting me to continue. "No judgments. I already know what you probably think of this, but I want you to promise me you'll listen to the whole story - really listen - without letting the past cloud your judgment."

Musa pursed her lips. "I'm not sure I can promise that, B," she said honestly, taking a sip of her coffee. "But I'll try. _Only_ because it's you," she was quick to add.

Realizing that was probably the best I was going to get, I nodded. "Okay. I'll answer whatever questions you want, anything you want to know. So... ask away."

"When you came to the archives... you didn't know then, did you?" I shook my head. "But you did have a suspicion, am I right?" She frowned as I looked away. "Bloom, why wouldn't you tell me about something like this?"

"Because that's all it was at the time; suspicion. And really, the suspicion seemed stupid to me at the time. Thomas was from Earth, and he had everything a typical Earth person had."

"So Baltor pretty much killed this guy off?"

"No! No, that's not what happened." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "The best way I can describe it is that the real Thomas Crowell had a near-death experience, but for some reason when he woke up it was Baltor's mind in the body instead of Thomas's. But those other memories were still there; parents, school, jobs, things like that. And until recently, those memories were sort of predominant while Baltor's were on the backburner. And then... I don't know. Something - maybe me - coaxed those memories out." I shifted my hair to one side of my neck as I said this. If Musa saw my tattoo, she probably wouldn't listen to anything I had to say.

She paused for a moment. "That's what he told you?" she asked. "And you aren't suspicious?"

I fought the urge to sigh. "Why would I be suspicious? He's a changed man."

"I'm not trying to fight, Bloom." She held her hands up in an innocent gesture. "All I'm saying is that Baltor was - is, a pretty powerful wizard. He knew how to turn people into mindless drones, for crying out loud. Don't you think he would've been smart enough to have a backup body in case we beat him? Some unknown chump that wouldn't be the wiser? And when he came to, he'd have plenty of time to observe and think his next moves through."

I took a deep breath, trying not to yell whatever immediately came to mind. _She has a right to think like this_, I reminded myself. "Maybe I don't have enough verifiable proof for you, but _I_ believe with all my heart that it's true - that he has changed. So I guess you have to decide how much value you put in my word."

I'd thought the way I phrased that was pretty good for the circumstances, but from the look on her face, I could tell I hadn't stayed as neutral as I'd wanted to. "I never said I don't trust _you_," she said. "It's him I don't trust. And that means that where he's involved, I'm not sure how much I can trust you now - after what I saw last night."

It took a minute for me to realize what she was saying. "...You think he put a _spell_ on me?"

She stared back at me coolly. "It's a possibility."

I was so angry, I thought steam was going to come out of my nostrils (that did happen once, during a particularly crazy game of Truth or Dare freshman year... don't ask). Covering my face with the mug for a moment, I tried to figure out the most tactful way to set her straight.

"You're _crazy_ if that's what you think last night was about."

"I didn't say that," Musa said defensively, taking a sip of her coffee. "But you can't sit here and tell me it's not a little weird, can you?"

"I-"

"Bloom, he's responsible for the destruction of your planet, and he's tried to kill us all on several occasions. And it seems like you don't remember that at all." I didn't respond, and Musa motioned to the laptop, sitting on the living room table. "And what about that?"

"What?"

"The _story_." Musa said. "I was mostly jumping around, but I gather it's a sort of version of what happened all those years ago?"

I nodded. "Most of it. Except the part about me having a secret relationship, of course. That never happened."

She looked relieved at that. "All right. But I read the most recent part you were on, with that Icy replica - Krystal or something - and that doesn't concern you?"

"Why should it concern me?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. "You mean that revenge one-liner? I think it's safe to say the Trix accomplished that; no secret there."

"But what if there's something else? Something Baltor knows about that he's not telling you."

"Musa." I took a deep breath. This was going a lot worse than I thought. "I am not under a spell, nor am I being completely careless about the situation. I know you don't trust Baltor, but I would think after all this time that you'd trust my judgment."

Musa bit her lip. "I'm not questioning your judgment. It's just... Baltor's a good manipulator. And it's been so long; I just don't want to see you make a mistake, you know? These are some pretty weird circumstances."

I hated to admit it, but she had laid out a pretty convincing case. The arguments she'd brought up were valid, and any sane person would believe them. But I remembered what Baltor had told me about abandoning that sort of life, and I believed him. "I know the circumstances are weird," I finally said. "But he promised me that's all behind him, and he seems sincere. Of course if the Trix start showing up around here, you're going to be the first person I call to kick some ass."

She smiled, but I could tell it was more out of obligation. "Of course. Just... be careful."

"I am."

It was silent for a moment. Musa finished her coffee and glanced at the clock above the sink. "Well, I didn't mean to be a house crasher. I should really get going."

There was still a sort of tension between us, but I was too tired to care. "I guess. I should call Anna and let her know I'm not dead or anything. I probably gave her a decent scare."

Musa seemed relieved I didn't say Baltor. She snapped her fingers, and a light coat appeared on her body. Once she had it buttoned, she gave me a hug. "Call me soon, okay?"

"I will. We can do lunch in Magix or something."

"Don't secretly invite Riven this time."

I could tell she wanted to say another name, but I still gave a small smile. "Fair game. See you later."

Musa nodded, snapped her fingers again, and vanished with a clap of displaced air.

I took the mugs and rinsed them out in the sink, thinking through the previous conversation. I knew it was ridiculous to let her words get to me like that, but I couldn't help it. Baltor had said he wouldn't go back to robbing the magic dimension and working with the Trix, but what if that was just the Thomas in him talking? Was there a chance that once he got his head straight, he _would_ want to go back to the way things were? It seemed suicidal - during the trip to Magix with Riven, I'd noticed some significant improvements in overall security - but Baltor had been unpredictable in the past.

I turned the faucet off. Maybe I was worrying too much. One thing I was confident in was that the Baltor I knew now was not the same man I'd fought at Alfea. He'd changed - from Thomas or his own will I didn't know, but he'd changed. And we were happy together. For now, that was enough for me. Things could never get as bad as they'd been in the past.

I knew that for sure.

* * *

**Well, Musa's given her two cents on the situation, and it seems she is _not_ happy! But really, were you surprised?**

**This chapter was a bit interesting, and we hope you like it. With luck, the rest of the story will be rolling out soon before final exams and such become too crazy. And with luck, you'll see some more stuff coming from me soon! I know, working with Authoress is a blast, but I haven't posted any solo work in a while and that needs to change.**

**Speaking of Authoress, I happen to know that today is her birthday! So if you want to be super awesome, leave her a happy birthday wish in your review! (Yes, I'm playing the birthday card. I'll probably play it again next month when it's _my_ birthday. You've been warned! :-) ). But besides that****, reviews always brighten our day and make us want to work harder, so don't forget to leave them!**

**We hope you guys have a great rest of the week!**

**~ember&Authoress**


	14. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13_

"Do you think the lips are too much?"

Anna glanced up from her laptop as I twisted the top back on the tube of shimmering red gloss I had just applied. "Normally I'd say yes, but you pull it off with black. And I have a feeling even if I do give it the thumbs-down, Baltor will beg to differ." She paused for a second, raising her eyebrow. "Baltor. That still feels weird to say."

I smiled. "You aren't the only one. I know it'll take some time, but we'll get there."

"It feels like_ I'm_ the only one who still needs to get there. You seem to be just fine with current events."

"I don't know if _fine_ is the right word. It's still a shock, and to be honest it's still a little hard to see Baltor and Thomas as the same person. But I'm trying to look past that and realize it doesn't matter who he is or was, but that he's funny and sweet and he likes me and I like him back. I mean, isn't it supposed to be that simple?"

"You should write Hallmark cards if this whole illustrator career doesn't work out." Anna smirked.

I rolled my eyes at her and headed for the door. "Thanks."

"You're going to his place after dinner, right?" she called. "I don't have any more earplugs, so if you're coming back here I should go get more!"

"Big talk from a girl without a boyfriend!"

Anna yelled something back, but I didn't catch it, as I felt my cell phone buzz in my pocket (I had never bought a dress without pockets, and I never would). I was going to let it ring until I noticed the name on the screen, which caused me to smile and my heartbeat to quicken a bit. I hit 'accept call'.

"Hey! I was just on my way out. I'm not running late, am I? You said seven?"

The line was silent for a moment. "I do hope you haven't gotten too far."

My hand stopped in the middle of twisting the doorknob. "Baltor? Are you all right?"

"Fine, fine," he said, though it sounded a bit forced. "But I'm afraid I'll have to postpone our dinner."

"...Oh."

"I'm sorry Bloom."

I finally forced my hand to let go of the knob. "Is anything wrong?"

Baltor paused. "No. Why do you ask?"

"You sound funny."

"Bloom." He sighed. "It's... personal. Probably nothing. But I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"And you can't talk about it?"

"...Not right now. But soon, I hope."

I bit my lip. "You're okay, though? Physically speaking?"

"I'm fine. I just need to work a few things out."

"All right." I glanced over my shoulder at Anna, who was watching me with a raised eyebrow. "So how about taking a rain check for next Sunday? Same time and place?"

He sounded relieved. "Wonderful. Thank you, love. I'll make it worthwhile."

I smiled a little. "I know you will."

"He cancelled?" Anna asked once I hung up. "Why?"

"He wouldn't say." I tossed my purse on the couch. "Well, I just spent an hour and a half of prep time for absolutely nothing."

She smiled sadly. "Pull up some couch and watch with me?"

"Not if it's another Korean drama with subtitles."

"You're a spoilsport."

"I know," I said. "And as much fun as that sounds, I think I'll just turn in early."

"All right. But keep me updated on this date delay. I want to know if this goes south."

"It's not going to go south!" I insisted. "It's just one postponed date. That's it."

* * *

_The caves in the Alternian mountains were surprisingly quiet, Rachel had decided. She'd only been to them once before, in a nature studies class, but she didn't remember them being so serene._

_Of course, that probably had more to do with the company._

_She looked around the cavern, sparsely decorated with a table, a few couches, and a shelf of baubles from various dimensions. Valentine had sent Krystal and her sisters on an errand, and though it wasn't much time to spend with him, it was better than nothing. In fact, between those three and her friends, it was a miracle she'd even been able to see Valentine since the night he'd appeared in her room - the night she decided to take a chance on what he could give her._

_The moments had been few and far between, but Rachel treasured them, especially like this when there were no outside distractions. For just a few hours, she could relax and pretend that things were normal; she was just spending time with her boyfriend before she had to get back to school, not sneaking off into the mountains to be with a convict who was terrorizing the dimension. Because in all honesty, there had been little talk of what they would do when their battles reached a critical point. It was a subject neither of them brought up, and Rachel had a feeling it was because neither of them had a good answer for how to deal with it._

_Valentine had gone into another room to get a bottle of wine, but apparently the room was a ways away from the one she was in. Rachel's eyes came to rest on the shelves on the far wall. She recognized some of the objects on display: they'd flashed across her TV screen as missing after various attacks had taken place. The contents ranged from small leather-bound books to fist-sized gems of various colors._

_They all seemed to be in decent condition in their new home, but Rachel couldn't help but note that extra precaution seemed to be given to a necklace resting in a small glass case on the middle shelf - a gold chain with a dark red ruby hanging from it. The gem was shimmering, even though there didn't seem to be a light source aimed at it. That was odd. The only gems she knew of that could do that came from..._

_Rachel felt her heart speed up. She stood from the couch and walked over to the shelves, listening for footsteps. After a few seconds of silence, she lifted the case and set it on the ground, giving her access to the necklace. It continued to shine, even after she cupped it in her hand to keep the light from hitting it. There was no question; it was glowing on its own, and there was only one necklace she knew of that did that._

_"You could've just asked me to give it to you."_

_She spun around. Valentine was on the couch, watching her with a curious eye. An unopened bottle of wine sat on the table, with two glasses. The image was a picture perfect example of a romantic afternoon, but Rachel felt nothing like that anymore._

_"It's really not that important to me. There was a small bit of magic in there, but nothing useful..." He paused when he saw the look on her face. "Are you all right?"_

_"This is Liana's, isn't it?"_

_Valentine's eyes widened, like someone who'd just remembered they weren't supposed to tell a secret. He tried to look confused, but it was already too late. "Who?"_

_"Liana. Princess Liana of Gemma. This is her necklace. It's genetically bonded to the next-in-line for the Gemma throne. That's why it's glowing. It's trying to find its owner." Valentine was silent. "The only thing I don't get is that the genetic link prevents it from being taken by force. So that means she gave it to you willingly."_

_His gaze was on the shelf behind her. "I did receive it willingly."_

_"So you made a deal with her? But Liana has everything, and she'd never willingly betray her planet. Her ego's too big. There's nothing you could..."_

_Rachel's voice trailed off, her mouth half-open, frozen in shock as the thought occurred to her. "No." The word was barely more than a whisper._

_In that moment, Rachel realized she had a choice. She could put the necklace back, pretend that nothing had happened and continue her romantic afternoon. Or she could follow the train of thought to wherever it led, even though it almost certainly would not be pretty._

_The temptation to make the first choice, to remain in blissful ignorance, was intense. But Rachel couldn't help herself. She had to know._

_Something must have shifted in her expression, because Valentine took a step towards her, reaching out his arm towards her shoulder. "Rachel, whatever it is you're thinking, I can promise you there's an explanation. Why don't you come sit down with me and we can talk about this-"_

_She took a step back, shying away from his touch like it would burn her. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she was surprised he couldn't hear it. "Tell me you didn't do it," she said, wincing internally at the manic sound of her own voice. But composure was the last thing on her mind right now. "Valentine, tell me you didn't... tell me that whatever you did for Liana in return for that necklace, it had nothing to do with Connor and me."_

_"Rachel-"_

_"Please, tell me you had nothing to do with what happened at that party." Rachel felt the beginnings of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked furiously. She had thought there was nothing she wanted more than the truth, but only now had she realized how much she wanted to be wrong about this. How much she wanted to have this one good thing in her life, unspoiled by secrets and lies. "But tell me the truth. I'm sick of liars."_

_There was a long, tense pause, where Valentine refused to look at her. When he finally did, Rachel's stomach turned; his eyes were that of a man burning at the stake._

_"I never wanted to lie to you, Rachel," he said softly. "You deserve more than that."_

_Bile rose up in the back of her throat as she saw the admission of guilt in his words._

_The tears seemed to dry on her skin, replaced by a rage that went straight to the bone. Rachel felt hot all over, like the intensity of her anger would sear her skin. "You bastard! You broke my heart so that you could put the pieces back together?"_

_Valentine flinched at the accusation, but didn't try to deny it. "Rachel, please, calm down-"_

_"Calm down? How am I supposed to do that?" She reached for the first thing she could find - a patterned blue and white vase - and aimed it at his head. It was probably a priceless artifact from some far-away realm, but as it shattered against the far wall of the cave, any value it might've had was gone forever._

_Just like her relationship with Valentine._

_"You lied to me. You manipulated me. You took advantage of me when I was at my lowest, after you did something to make it happen. I can't believe I ever trusted you. My friends were right - you are a miserable, rotten, heartless excuse for a man."_

_Her chest heaved with exertion. Strangely, though every word out of her mouth seemed to hit him like a poisoned dart, Valentine didn't try to fight back. Instead of pacifying her, his silence had the opposite effect._

_"Did Krystal put you up to it? This kind of devious manipulation seems right up her alley. Did she feed you all the info, tell you exactly how to make me fall for you so you could break my heart into a million pieces? Was any of it real, or was this just an elaborate plot of revenge for you all to laugh over?"_

_When Valentine spoke, it was in a surprisingly collected voice. "I will hate myself forever for the fact that I hurt you. But if you think for one second that my feelings for you were part of some revenge scheme, you're gravely mistaken." He hesitated, and for that split second Rachel could see the depth of the pain in his eyes. "I... I wanted to get close to you, and that was the only way I knew how."_

_Something inside her wanted to break, but she refused to let it. "That's no excuse," she said bitterly._

_"I know."_

_Rachel opened her mouth to keep yelling, but then exhaled instead. "You know what the really sad thing is, Valentine? I came into this knowing who the stories said you were, but I thought I saw something different inside of you. I thought there was someone worth saving inside the monster you pretend to be. But there's not, is there? You're exactly who they say you are. And there's no one who could possibly love the real you."_

_With that, she turned around and stormed out of the cave, ignoring the feeling that she was leaving her heart behind with every step._

* * *

_Sorry to do this to you again, but I think I'll have to take a rain check on that lunch. Forgive me?_

"Argh!" I stopped myself in time from hurling my phone across the room in anger (because iPhones crack so easily, and I really couldn't afford to get it fixed).

This was maybe the seventh time in two weeks that Baltor had postponed- no, might as well just call it what it was - had _canceled_ a date. Sometimes he managed to come up with what might've been a valid reason, but sometimes - like today - he didn't even bother trying to explain himself.

I'd been willing to make excuses at first, but now this was just getting ridiculous. I would have marched right upstairs and demanded that he talk to me in person, except he hadn't been to work in a few days either. The whole situation was starting to become less of an occasional nuisance and more of a full on problem. I could only do so much without knowing what exactly I was compensating for.

The hardest thing to wrap my mind around was the why. Things had been so incredible - I'd even go so far as to say perfect - between us, making up for all the time we'd lost in our other lives. And then it was like someone had flipped a switch and he'd become an entirely different person overnight - one who wanted nothing to do with me.

I sighed, then sat up straight and reached for my computer. The text had left me too pent up to think about drawing, but maybe I could get caught up on some old email stuff or something. But of course, when I moved my finger over the touchpad, the image that came up was of a draft of Baltor's book - the last thing I had been looking at before the computer turned itself off.

Groaning, I automatically moved to close the screen, but paused at the last second as a thought occurred to me.

I'd tried all the normal methods of trying to figure out what was going on with him - calling, texting, email, even face-to-face conversation when I could get it. But all of those would require him to voluntarily give me the information I wanted to know - which obviously wasn't happening any time soon.

What if there was a way I could find out what was bothering him that wouldn't involve that?

I leaned back in my chair, lost in thought. A normal girl wouldn't have an option like that available, but as proven again and again and again, I was far from a normal girl.

_This just might work..._

* * *

**Three cheers for filler chapters!**

**Well, this isn't a _complete_ filler chapter, but is a setup chapter for the plot driving the rest of the story! I hope you're excited! The next chapter is being written as we speak (literally, Authoress is on our BLBC doc typing it out.), and should go up around time school is out (June 7th, for me, June 1st for Authoress). And hey, who knows what else may be written (shameless plug that I'm going to try and put up new things).**

**But all things said, we really hope you liked this chapter. Of course scenes with Valentie and Rachel are just awesome to write. Man, isn't Valentine great? He _totally_ deserves his own story; like a real, honest to goodness story about him that you pay money to buy and read because it's nice like that. But I mean, it's not like that will _ever_ happen, right? (Wrong. But we'll talk about that later.)**

**Anyway, next chapter! Expect it in a few weeks time. And of course, reviews are nice because it makes us feel accomplished and stuff.**

**Have an awesome summer, you guys!**

**ember & Authoress**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Remind me again, what does Anna have going on right now? Some family reunion thing?"

"It's a _Korean_ family reunion," I said knowingly, nestling myself under the blankets. "So basically, every single member of her extended family is descending on California for the weekend - and there are a _lot_ of them. And they don't believe in staying at hotels when there's family they can stay with instead, even if said family has a roommate. I would've been sharing my bedroom with her seven-year-old twin second-cousins-once-removed and their three older brothers and sisters, if you hadn't taken pity on me."

Baltor smirked as he came back from the closet with an extra pillow, which he propped up behind my head. "I wouldn't dream of making you sleep with a bunch of snot-nosed brats, even if they are Anna's family." But I saw his hands tremble slightly as he gave me the pillow, and he was careful not to touch me for too long. The bed creaked slightly as he got in on the other side, what felt like an ocean away from me. I bit my lip to hold back a sigh.

In truth, there was no family reunion; I'd just needed a convenient excuse to force him to spend some time with me. The fact that I was here now gave me enough hope to buoy my confidence. _This has to work. If it doesn't... I don't know what I'll do._

I took a deep breath in the darkness. No negative thoughts. I had a job to do, and I had no idea how to do it.

Really, I had only the most vague idea that this might even work at all. Even though it had seemed like he could read my mind at times, I'd never tried to do it myself, nor did I have even the faintest clue how I might go about doing it. All I had to go on was the curiosity of our Dragon Fire connection, which had proven itself to be infinitely more complex than I could have imagined. I didn't know how much of that had survived his rebirth as "Thomas," but if the arcane magic that had brought him back to me hadn't been able to erase the mark of what had only been wishful fantasies before, I had to believe something that was so much a part of his very being was still there.

I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, trying to clear my mind of any other thoughts. I thought about Baltor - his laughter, his energy, everything that made him the man I loved beyond reason. Slowly, an image began to form in my mind, of shining with light like a candle in a dark room. Feeling for it like a blind person trying to find their way around an unfamiliar room, I reached toward the light, trying to fight the urge to draw back as it moved to envelop me.

I gasped as the light seemed to sear the inside of my eyelids, so blindingly bright it was like looking at the sun. For a moment, I was acutely aware of every sensation - the weight of the mattress beneath me, the pillow at my head, the thread count of the sheets - and then it all just melted away.

I'd experienced something similar once, I remembered, the time I'd retreated into my flame to fight Baltor on Tides. That thought forced me to open my eyes again, and what I opened them to was a very different scene.

The first thing I noticed was that it was dark. Baltor's apartment was usually illuminated by the bay lights outside the window, but there wasn't a source of light anywhere - no bay light, no alarm clock, and _definitely_ no Dragon Fire essence flames. The shiver that had shot through me hadn't faded, and I realized that wherever I was, it was freezing. There also wasn't any sound; besides my breathing, it was deathly quiet. The feeling of darkness loomed in the air, so thick it felt like I was swimming in it.

Wherever I was, it was obvious that I wasn't welcome.

I lit a fireball in my palm, hoping it would illuminate enough of the space for me to get my bearings. The first thing that I noticed was the end of an elevated slab a few feet from my free hand. Tentatively, I reached out and ran my fingers over it. It was cool to the touch, and very smooth. In fact the only dent on the surface was a small chip on the corner of the slab. It was almost a comfort; it reminded me of the chip on our countertop at the apartment that Anna made during our horrific attempt at cooking Thanksgiving dinner.

But she had chipped it in two places; the corner of the counter, and a few inches to the left of it. Almost subconsciously, my fingers drifted in that direction.

And they hit another nick in the slab.

My blood ran cold. I glanced at the fireball in the other hand and fed some more magic into it, making it glow brighter. I released it as well, so it was hovering over my head. I had a good seven foot radius of light now, and boy did I need it when I got a good glimpse of the world around me.

_This has to be a dream..._

I stepped forward into what looked like the living room back at the apartment. It was an exact replica, right down to the books on our coffee table. The only difference was in the windows, looking out into a pure black abyss instead of Saint Marie Bay. I glanced around, trying to find an inconsistency, but it was a perfect replica, right down to Anna's stupid blue and pink heels I'd tripped over while leaving earlier.

_But... Baltor hasn't been to the apartment for days. He wouldn't know her shoes were there._

Which meant it wasn't his mind creating the dream. Something was feeding it to him; something dark, judging by the way the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end.

I was caught off guard by a whimper coming from the other side of the room. I snapped my head in that direction and held my breath. A moment later, I heard the sound again. I could make out that it was human, but nothing besides that.

The darkness seemed to be pressing down on me, and I started toward the noise cautiously. It took me through the living room and kitchen, and to the hallway that led to the rest of the house. The sound was definitely louder now; it was either coming from Anna's room or mine. The door to Anna's room was open, and I glanced inside. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, and I realized with a chill the sound was coming from my room.

There wasn't another option if I wanted to get to the bottom of this. Dimming the fireball above me, I opened the door to my room and stepped inside.

It seemed darker in here than it'd been in the hallway. I didn't have any doubt I was dealing with dark magic now; I could feel it in the air, trying to force me out of the room. Whatever was in here, it didn't want me to see it. But I fought it off and took a step forward, surprised when my foot came within inches of a form that I hadn't seen before.

I'd found the source of the noise.

Baltor - or at least, his dream self - was in front of me, kneeling on the ground. There was another form lying on the ground in front of him, and judging by the long hair it looked like a girl. And Baltor was... crying over her.

I'd never seen him cry before.

Very carefully, I laid my hand on his shoulder. He didn't flinch or look up, and I wondered if he could even feel it. Maybe I couldn't interact in the dream since it wasn't my subconscious. "Baltor..." I said softly.

"What have I done, Bloom?"

My eyes widened. Had he heard me. "Baltor?"

He raised his head from his hands, but his eyes didn't even glance in my direction. Instead, he looked toward the form on the floor. "God... what have I _done_?"

An icy feeling crept into my heart. Slowly, I knelt down next to Baltor on the floor and felt my hand touch something sticky. There was an acrid, metallic smell that became overwhelming, and I knew I didn't have to turn the body over to know what was going on. But something in the back of my head made me reach my hand out, take the shoulder of the girl, and turn her so that she was on her back.

And I saw my own face stare up at the ceiling. Eyes wide, mouth open, and very, _very_ dead.

There was a shaky breath next to me, and I started shaking Baltor's shoulder with the hand that wasn't covered in blood. "Hey... hey listen to me, this isn't real. You're dreaming. That's not me. I'm right here. Something's feeding this to you." He didn't respond.

I could feel the darkness pressing down on me again, and it made me shake him harder. "It's not real. I know somewhere in your head you can hear me. None of this is real! Wake up!"

It felt like there was a barrier closing in on us. I set my jaw and glanced around the room. "Sorry, but it looks like we're going to have to do this the hard way." I glanced up at the fireball that was still in the air, and after muttering a spell under my breath, it started to expand. The dark energy tried to fight it off, but it was useless. Flames engulfed the room, and I shut my eyes tightly against the bright light. I heard Baltor yell.

I could almost feel the world around me start to crumble, and I knew Baltor was waking up. "And take this as a warning!" I yelled out, knowing whatever was feeding the darkness into his subconscious could probably hear me. "I'm going to find you! And when I do, you're going to be damn sorry you tried this!"

I almost swore I heard a laugh as the darkness of his bedroom replaced the colors of my fake-apartment.

"Bloom?"

I threw a spell at the light switch in the corner, bathing the room in light, then turned to see Baltor sitting straight up in bed, his eyes enormously wide. He reached out a hand toward my arm, as if unsure whether or not I was real.

The second his fingertips touched my skin - verifying that I was, in fact, real and solid - he bolted off the bed and across the room. "Get away from me!" The look in his eyes was panicked, frightened, like a wild animal cornered by a group of hunters.

My heart ached; obviously, the dream had left a larger impression than I could have ever imagined. "You need to calm down," I said slowly, in as even a tone as I could manage given the circumstances. "Baltor, it's me. Bloom. And I'm fine. I know what's been happening to you lately, and I want to help, but first you need to take a deep breath and calm down-"

"You don't know what I've been going through." He shook his head vehemently. "What you just saw was positively tame compared to some of the other things that have been happening to me."

"Then tell me about the others," I said, patting the empty space on the bed next to me. "Tell me every last horrifying detail. I want to know exactly how bad it is, because then I'll know how much I have to hurt the person who's doing this to you."

Baltor blinked. For the first time since we'd come out of the dream, I appeared to have his attention. I kept going. "I felt dark magic in that dream. Someone else created it, and fed it into your mind. Don't you see? It wasn't you who created those horrible things. You don't need to be afraid of hurting me, because it's not really you that wants to do it." That had just been a hypothesis, but when he flinched, I knew I had hit the target. "So come back to bed and let me help you. I want to help you."

He took a step toward the bed, then drew back like he'd been burned with hot coals. "No, Bloom, please listen to me. You have to leave. Now. Go back to Anna and her six hundred cousins. This was a mistake, letting you come over. I don't want to hurt you."

"Were you not listening to a word I just said? Your subconscious mind didn't make those dreams. Someone else did, and tried to make you _think_ that you did. And you're letting them succeed." I made my voice soft as I continued, "But I know you better than that. I know you would never hurt me, no matter what kind of dark magic is messing with your mind and making you think you want to kill me. I trust you-"

"Well, you shouldn't!" He slammed a fist against the wall, causing me to jump. His knuckles had to be aching, but he kept going, unfazed. "One time I was sitting at my desk at the office and this vision flashed through my head, of me going upstairs and slitting your throat. And then when I came out of it a second later, my hand was curled around a letter opener and I was halfway out of my chair."

His words sent a shudder through me, and though I tried to conceal it, I knew he saw. "You _should_ be disgusted with me," he said, his voice laced with so much self-hatred I wanted to cry. "You should leave, go somewhere safe. Even if what you say is true and it is all magic, then who knows how it's already been affecting me? Whether or not this is actually a product of my own mind, I don't trust myself around you anymore."

I had been trying so hard to stay calm, to remind myself that he had been under extraordinary pressure for the last few weeks and wasn't thinking clearly, but that was becoming harder and harder to do. "You should have said something to me, instead of just blowing me off and giving me all those vague excuses. I hate the thought of you dealing with something like this alone."

"Told you what? That your new boyfriend, who in another life was your mortal enemy, has been having violent dreams and visions of torturing and killing you?" He laughed, a sound so cold and sarcastic it hardly deserved to be called that. "Like that wouldn't have sent you running for the hills."

I balled my hands into fists by my side. "So your alternative was just to _lie_ to me? How is that any better?"

"At least I was keeping you safe!" He started pacing back and forth, stopping in the middle of the floor after a moment with his eyes trained on me. "I knew before any of this started that I'd never be good enough to deserve you. I'm selfish enough that I kept hoping anyway. But if anything ever happened to you because of me, I would never be able to live with myself."

"Nothing _will_ happen to me if you let me help you! Come on, you _know_ if we work together we can figure this out."

"Are you listening to anything I'm saying? It isn't safe for you to be around me!"

"Well you aren't listening to anything _I'm saying_!" I snapped. "I'm trying to _help_ you, but you're just shutting me out. Which is probably exactly what they wanted you to do."

"I don't care what it is that 'they' do, just so long as you're safe, Bloom. Now I am begging you to get out of here. I can figure this out on my own, and the moment I do, I promise I will come back for you."

"No! That's not how a relationship works! You don't get to go off on your own while I wait around for you! And especially not when something that dark is after you!" He stopped in front of the window while I was talking. I could see his eyes reflected in the glass, and I stared right back at him, refusing to back down. "We're in this together, and that's the end of it."

I saw his eyes narrow, and there was something about it that made my blood run cold. "While I admire your willingness to help me, I wasn't asking for your permission."

Before I could say anything, I was blinded again. The first thought that came into my head was_ I can't believe I let my powers get out of control again_, but then I had the chilling realization that it wasn't my powers that had caused it. My next thought was that it wasn't possible, but when I opened my eyes again, the room was empty.

"Baltor?" I called, but there was no response.

Well, that answered the question of Baltor ever getting his powers back. But it created about a dozen other problems with it.

While the Dragon Fire connected us, Baltor could control it better than I could. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. Along with that, the search plane had gone from a small portion of Earth to the entire magical dimension. And considering I'd burned almost all my bridges with my old friends, I couldn't have anyone keep an eye out for him. (What would I even tell them, since they all thought he was dead? Except Musa, but she was highly unlikely to be helpful either.)

I sighed and threw myself back on the bed. _What am I going to do?_

* * *

**Well there you have it folks. It only gets better from here!**

**Updates will resume as soon as Authoress gets back from her European vacation (if you're jealous and you know it clap your hands...). Now that it's summer, updates should be coming out at a decent pace.**

**Also! You're probably still a bit curious and confused as to why I was mentioning a Valentine story in the last chapter. And well...you'll have to keep waiting. :-) At least for a little while. But an eye out on Authoress's profile; you'll find more information there. Also, start saving some money in your Amazon account. Like...$3 or so. Because well, you never know; you may need $3 to buy something. (HINT!)**

**Anyway, that about does it. Reviews are super sweet, so don't forget to leave them!**_  
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**ember&Authoress**


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